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(E OLD PINE. 



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DARTMOUTH COLLEGE 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES, 



Tuesday, June 27, 1893. 



CONCORD, N. H.: 
Republican Press Association. 



•.T. ^uh, UX^ 



-^ 



CLASS DAY OFFICERS. 

President. 
GUY WILBUE COX, 

Manchester, N. H. 



Marshal. 
JAMES HENKY VAN HOEN, 



, . . , ^s^istant Marshal. 
jd'liARiJ^ES CAEPENTEll GOSS, 

PiTTSFIELD, N, H. 



CO 

a 



DARTMOUTH 



9 3 



MEMBERS OF THE CLASS. 



Winthrop Porter Abbott, 
Willard Grant Aborn, 
Alger Vincent Allen, 
Arthur Daniel Arnold, 
Rufus Henry Baker, 
Frank Albert Benton, 
George Williams Boutelle, 
Edward Bowers, 
Lester Warren Burbank, 
Almorin Orton Caswell, 
Frederick Nathan Chandler, 
Guy Wilbur Cox, 
Harry Nutting Dascomb, 
George Byron Dodge, 
John Quincy Eaton, 
Joseph Louis Ferguson, 
Carroll Langdon Flint, 
Samuel Pingree French, 
Charles Augustus French, 
Guy Goodwin Furnel, 
Charles Benjamin Gordon, 
Charles Carpenter Goss, 



Brookfleld, Vt. 
Wakefield, Mass. 
Claremont, N. H. 
Westborough, Mass. 
Bow, N. H. 
Hanover, N. H. 
Nashua, N. H. 
Frey's Bush, N. Y. 
Walden, Vt. 
Orange, Mass. 
Lawrence, Mass. 
Manchester, N. H. 
Westminster, Vt. 
Manchester, N. H. 
Washington, D. C. 
Danvers, Mass. 
West Braintree, Vt. 
West Lebanon, N. H. 
Winchester, N. H. 
Wilton, Me. 
Lakewood, N. J. 
Pittsfleld, N. H. 



MEMBERS OF THE CLASS. 



George Edmund Greeley, 
Edward Griffith, 
Byron Freeto Gnstin, 
Theodore Lincoln Harley, 
George Oliver Bj^ron Hawley, 
Edwin Jerome Heywood, 
Samuel Parker Hunt, 
Henry Clay Ide, 
William Rice Jarvis, 
John G Ibert Kellar, 
George Edward Kinney, 
Arthur Jewett Lougee, 
William Gage Mann, 
Herbert Sedgwick Martyn, 
Harry Bingham Metcalf , 
Clarence Wright McKay, 
Charles Richard McKenzie, 
Harry Newell McLaren, 
Frank Dusten McQuesten, 
Lucius Julius Mason, 
Robert Doty Maynard, 
Josiah Leverett Merrill, 
Edward Sherman Miller, 
Frank William Miller, 
Frederick Alvin Morrill, 
Harlan Colby Pearson, 
Frank Bailey Pelton, 
George Edward Pender, 
William Merritt Penniman, 
Perley Oakland Place, 
William Alfred Redenbaugh, 



Marlboro', Mass. 
East Dorset, Vt. 
Groton, Mass. 
Normal, 111. 
Westerly, R. I. 
Claremont, N. H. 
Manchester, N. H. 
St. Johnsbury, Vt. 
Claremont, N. H. 
Peoria, 111. 
Thetford, Vt. 
Rochester, N. H. 
Penacook, N. H. 
Windsor, Vt. 
Concord, N. H. 
Webster, N. Y. 
Burke, N. Y. 
Manchester, N. H. 
Reed's Ferry, N. H. 
Brattleboro', Vt. 
Springfield, Mass. 
St. Johnsbury, Vt. 
Ryegate, Vt. 
Dayton, O. 
Amesbury, Mass. 
Penacook, N. H. 
Hanover, N. H. 
Portsmouth, N. H. 
Hartland, Vt. 
South Berwick, Me. 
Peoria, 111. 



MEMBERS OF 

John Munn Rowell, 
Frederic Daniel Runnells, 
John Benjamin Russell, 
Alfred Levi Saben, 
Albert Childs Sails, 
Frank Nehemiah Saltmarsh 
Henry Claj' Sanders, Jr., 
Ernest August Schimmler, 
George Charles Selden, 
Walter Wyman Smith, 
Willis Tucker Sparhawk, 
Philip Edwin Stanley, 
Herbert Tetlow, 
Fred Peaslee Tuxbury, 
James Henry Van Horn, 
John William Watson, 
Edwin Bell Weston, 
Elam Rust Wright, 



THE CLASS. 

Bradford, Vt. 
Nashua, N. H. 
Walpole, N. H. 
Winchester, N. H. 
Burke, N. Y. 
Concord, N. H. 
Claremont, N. H. 
Hanover, Germany. 
Northwood, N. H. 
Lower Cabot, Vt. 
West Randolph. Vt. 
Hanover, N. H. 
Westerly, R. I. 
Amesbury, Mass, 
Chicago, 111. 
Hampstead, N. H. 
Manchester, N. H. 
Gilmanton, N. H. 



f 



lj 



OOlSTTElsrTB. 



Introductory Address. 

Byron Freeto Gustin 9 

Oration. 

Guy Goodwin Furnel 12 

Poem. 

George Oliver Byron Hawley 18 

Address to President. 

Samuel Parker Hunt 23 

Address to Campus. 

Edwin Jerome Haywood 26 

Address to Undergraduates. 

Henry Clay Sanders, Jr., 29 

Address at Old Chapel. 

Almorin Orton Caswell 31 

Address at New Athletic Field. 

George William Boutelle 33 

Chronicles. 

Perley Oakland Place 37 

Prophecies. 

Harry Nutting Daseomb 61 

Address at Tower. 

George Edward Kinney 88 

Address at the Old Pine. 

Alfred Levi Saben 91 

Class Ode. 

Albert Childs Sails 94 



INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. 



Byron Freeto Gustin, Groton, Mass. 



Surely, yet too quickly, lias tlie pendulum vibrated 
back and forth, until against tlie names of full three 
score and ten of our class is recorded four years of 
united toil and endeavor; years indicative of labor 
spent in a pleasant and, we sincerely hope, profita- 
ble manner. And to-day, as we assemble for almost 
the last time, to break the ties which have drawn 
us together so closely and pleasantly in the past, to 
unclasp the hands joined together in an ever endur- 
ing friendship, may all the associations dear to the 
heart of every true and noble man inspire us to look 
upon the sorrow of parting with a feeling of hope- 
fulness for the future. Had we been able to proph- 
esy, four years ago, the result of all our labor to- 
gether; could we have foretold the outcome of 
these four years in our life as shown to-day, 
mayhap our course would have been different. We 
would have done things now left undone, and re- 
frained from doing those things which proved 
harmful to us. Had we the power to see the future 
and the fruition of our present plans, we might be 
loth to leave the path by which many of us have 
tarried, and draw back with reluctance to enter 
the ranks of those who have gone before us in life* 



16 CLASS OF NINETY-THRE^. 

But wisely has the knowledge of struggle, sor- 
row, and disappointment of the future been with- 
held from us, and we stand to-day all hopeful for 
our success and final reward. 

All things to-day assume their fairest aspect, and 
we have built, in our minds, many a castle that will 
topple to the ground under the storms of life. We, 
as Dartmouth's youngest offspring, look upon the 
bright side of life, and feel that if knowledge is 
power, then indeed must we be powerful. Have 
we not associated with a body of men of wide in- 
tellectual range — have we not come in contact with 
some of New England's greatest intellectual lead- 
ers — have we not had opportunity to absorb a vast 
amount of knowledge upon almost every subject 
conceivable? Then who can doubt our acquiring 
power from knowledge? The world is advancing 
to a high point of attainment in every branch ; as 
students of this era we are looked to for help in 
bearing this burden resting upon our shoulders; 
we must carry it, and then in turn yield it to our 
successors. Shall we fulfil our expectations? Hard 
labor, and not genius, conquers the world. 

One blessing awaits us, and for it we should be 
thankful ; it is our privilege to make our own for- 
tune, of carving our own way in life. A man of 
fortune is influential, but to a man who possesses 
energy of character, combined with persistence, 
patience, and a determination to succeed, is the 
reward assured. 

Fortunate is the man who has the elements of 
success, but if there is added to these godliness, he 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 11 

builds not only for time but for eternity. But no 
man lives to himself nor by himself alone — each of 
us has had friends who have been a help and an 
encouragement to us in our labors. We are glad 
to welcome such friends to-day. For your sympa- 
thies we are truly grateful; your words have helped 
and cheered us, your deeds assisted us ; but there 
is still in our hearts a feeling toward you that can- 
not be expressed. No words of ours can convey 
the thought that we would voice, but we hope to 
repay the kind sympathy and regard by fulfilling 
the exiDcctations by which we have been surrounded. 
But do not judge us harshly if we do not at first 
seem to succeed — the painter does not paint his 
best picture at the first trial, but only after the 
close application of years is he rewarded. Our 
powers develop slowly, but some time we hope to 
accomplish that which will cause us to be held as 
benefactors of the human race. 

Our aim in life is to so run that we will hear the 
"Well done, good and faithful servant," as a fitting 
benediction at the close of our earthly career. 



ORATION. 



Guy Goodwin Furnel, Wilton, Me. 



As we pause today, for a last formal farewell to 
the beautiful scenes of this quiet, scholastic retreat, 
where we have enjoyed, for four years, all the 
opportunities for culture and training that this 
grand old college of our choice could give, every 
heart feels a glad thrill of gratitude and love to 
her; gratitude that she has opened the fountains 
of thought and truth and beauty which the ages 
have accumulated, that she has revealed to us 
the true significance of life, and that she has 
inspired us with a love and appreciation of 
true scholastic attainment. From her we have 
caught a measure of that determined, almost stern, 
spirit of success which so characterizes Dartmouth 
men, and which, like a strong current, ever bears 
them onward despite all tides of ill fortune. 
Equipped with well trained mental faculties, and 
possessed of this all-potent spirit, we may make 
the future what we will. But whether it is our 
ambition to sway men's minds from the platform or 
the sanctum, or to minister to the ills of the body 
or soul, or to shape the thought of the next genera- 
tion by training the youth, or to whatever branch 
of progress we choose to devote our energies, we 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 13 

may still be students and seek to follow nature into 
her fastnesses, still try to sift out that golden grain 
of truth which is the beautiful in art, the admir- 
able in character, and the divine in nature. 

To the true student, nature almost reveals her- 
self. He only, of all men, may follow closely in her 
footsteps, and trace aright the eternal purpose of 
her acts. Nature always hides her richest treasures 
deepest. As she locks the shining gold in the clasp 
of the cheaper quartz, so she subtly hides beneath 
the gold itself its true nature, properties, and re- 
lations. He, therefore, whose eyes are not dazzled 
by the glittering pelf, may discover the embedded 
truth that shall unlock untold beneficence to man- 
kind. 

We value anything only for what we hope from 
it. The desire for wealth, power, or success as 
an end, is an unworthy motive and has diverted 
many a student from the truth within his reach. 
Fancy one who sees this attractive object on the 
verge of his desert horizon. He struggles on 
towards it, but only when he sinks exhausted at 
the end of his strength he finds, instead of the 
cool water of contentment and satisfaction, only 
the dry dust of disappointment, too late to choose 
a new and true course. But to him whose 
faculties have been quickened and trained by 
observation and study, and whose will has 
been educated to choose the true and worthy, 
the world becomes a reality and life a delight. His 
keen perception, nice discrimination, and logical 
reasoning enable him to detect the faulty in art and 



14 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

nature. New worlds of thought and imagination 
are waiting to yield him new treasures. He in- 
stinctively chooses the decent and refined. His 
pleasures are simple, but keen and satisfying. It is 
he only who can realize Goethe's motto, " I will be 
lord over myself." 

The pursuit of truth is the highest vocation or 
avocation to which one may consecrate his energies. 
The destiny and sovereignty of the human mind 
is the exact knowledge of things and the search 
for truth. No higher use can be made of one's 
faculties than to develoj) and use them to the full 
in the accomplishment of their manifest destiny. 
But to dip from the deepest wells of knowledge, 
and to live in true sympathy with man and nature, 
the student must himself be the soul of truth. No 
ultimate success or true satisfaction awaits the stu- 
dent who cherishes a love for display, applause, or 
other ulterior object. The really successful scien- 
tist, professional man, or artist, is he who has for 
his aim the truth he seeks and not the reward he 
sees. Nature is a jealous mistress, and will accept 
no divided homage. 

The greatest achievement-* of men have not been 
called forth by the offer of reward, but are always 
the normal outgrowth and true expression of the 
soul within, produced only after due time. No man 
could have written "Evangeline" for pay. Count 
Kumford did not evolve his priceless contribution 
to physical science for a salary, much less devote 
forty years of his life to preliminary study in the 
hope of financial reward. Celebrated painters have 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 15 

failed who have striven for the prize offered by the 
French Academy, while those who could succeed 
under this false stimulus have never achieved any 
greater success or prominence. Neither the desire 
for gain nor the love of applause can inspire a 
masterpiece. 

If the earnest purpose from the first be a search 
for truth for truth's own sake, and the search be 
prosecuted with energy, every opportunity of life 
as it comes may be seized and every obligation 
cancelled. We are today under obligation to 
society, to ourselves, and to the college, but if 
we follow this teaching, " To thine own self be true, 
and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst 
not then be false to any man," we shall be able to 
satisfy every expectation. How can we better serve 
the college, and show our loyalty to her, than by 
being true to ourselves and to the ideal which rises 
before us in our best moments ? 

It means something when an accomplished 
scholar and eminent thinker, a man in his prime, 
with a useful and successful career already opened 
before him, turns from all and takes up the arduous 
duties of a more obscure life, simply because he 
would not be untrue to himself and his convictions. 
It means that he believes with Chaucer, that 
" truth is the lightest thing a man may keep," and 
that he squares his life by his beliefs. Every 
life is characterized, consciously or otherwise, by 
that which appears most prominently in forceful, 
successful lives, i. e., a central, controlling motive 
like the theme of a great symphony from which all 



16 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

else springs and in accord with wliicli the whole 
life is developed and harmonized. But if this theme 
be unworthy or false, the whole composition fails. 

The true student is a close observer of human 
nature. Though he must be much alone " to be- 
come acquainted with his own thoughts " and lead 
a quiet, solitary life, yet it is he who can best bene- 
fit his fellow-men, for he sees their real needs and 
the most effective ways of ministering thereto. 
The potency of his benevolence is multiplied many 
fold by his keen insight and constant training. 

And now why is it that truth is such a valuable 
guerdon that men count any sacrifice cheap which 
procures it ? It is because it is immortal. It is as 
fixed as one of the stars. Its light comes down to 
us through the countless ages of the past and if, 
while we have it we make ourselves a part of it, it 
will bear us on to that great hereafter whither all 
that is true is irresistibly drawn by the affinity of 
the infinite, eternal Truth. In this spirit of success, 
then, inherited with the very name of our alma 
mater, let us set our course toward that bright, 
clear star of truth, rather than make the mistake 
of steering toward its fiickering, fugitive reflection 
in the troubled waters below. 

In closing let me quote the words of Emerson 
spoken at the Commencement exercises of Dart- 
mouth college fifty-five years ago. "Be content 
with a little light so it be your own. Explore and 
explore. Be neither chided nor flattered out of your 
position of perpetual inquiry. Neither dogmatize, 
nor accept another's dogmatism, Why should you 



y\ 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 17 

renounce your right to traverse the starlit deserts 
of truth for the premature comfort of an acre, 
house, and barn ? Truth also has its roof and bed 
and board. Make yourself necessary to the world 
and mankind will give you bread, and if not store 
of it, yet such as shall not take away your property 
in all men's possessions, in all men's affections, in 
art, in nature, and in life. 

"Thought is all bright and publishes itself to the 
universe. It will speak though you were dumb by 
its own miraculous organ. It will flow out of your 
action, your manner, your face. It will bring you 
friendship. It will impledge you to truth by the 
love and expectation of generous minds. By virtue 
of the laws of that nature which is one and perfect, 
it shall yield every sincere good that is in the soul, 
to the scholar beloved of earth and heaven." 



POEM. 

George Oliver Byron Hawley, Westerly, R. I. 



What is a life? A ceaseless, changing show, 
And men the actors, forgotten when they go. 
Except, mayhap, some star who brightly shines 
When all is dead and gone, and later he? 
What is it makes the heart, the Undefined, 
The Unknown- good that Aristotle shrines 
And Plato sought and all men think to see,— 
The heart, I say, desire and long for— blind? 
What is a man, and what should mankind do; 
What has he done, and what does he pursue? 
Life ! Life ! An everlasting life to him. 
So wise men say, who finds what wisdom seeks. 

The bright sun rises o'er the eastern hills, 

And looks upon the earth, his child. He loves 

The wooded hills, the soft, green valleys with 

Their molten, silver waters flowing on. 

How reckless, tossing each, with dauntless will, 

To emulate the hare in flight, the doves 

Who fly and light to murmur each his loves; 

Now flowing placid, crooning out its song 

As does a mother to her child. Along 

The grassy banks the fringing sedges grow, 

Or tall, green grass, with here and there a space 

Where frightened animals their footsteps slow 

To ford the stream or drink. And here the lace 

Of twined branches from th' o'erhanging trees 

Paints in the water a green and grayish frieze ; 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 19 

And now the banks are steep, and now a vale, 
Like ancient Tempe, cuts the hills and hides 
The tim'rous bird, or squirrel with brushy tail. 
Back from the river's mossed and grassj^ bank 
The little terraced plains are piled to one 
Much larger than the rest, and on their sides 
Primeval forests, 'neath whose trees there lurks 
The snarling wildcat, at his meal begun. 
The lumb'ring bear, the lynx with silky sides. 
The prowling wolf with uglj^ curling jaw. 
And deer, the rabbit with his velvet paw. 
Or some sly serpent crawling 'neath the rank 
And closely growing brush and beauteous ferns. 
And to those hills beyond, this plateau turns. 
O'er which the sun rose, he who ever works 
His westward course since ever earth began; 
But never in this wondrous scene is man. 

In ancient days— so history tells— a Greek 

Would seek supremacy by use of limb. 

And by physical skill woul 1 in the game 

Excel his rivals in the race for fame; 

But in the latter days 'tis changed, and man 

Now seeks to rule by strength of mind, or, best. 

By mind and body both to govern. Rest, 

Unknown to him beneath Ambition's fan. 

A world of Science and of Wisdom lore 

Is now for man, and he who will not take 

Is naught. But why, oh, why indeed, should he? 

What though we know the world and all therein 

And not our soul! What is the Undefined? 

What is that second self? Where is the soul, 

And whose? Is 't something apart, or is the mind 

Some combination made by chemistry ? 

And what in wisdom, then, can cure that ache 

Which springs from soul when overcome by sin? 

And once again the sun peeps past the hills: 
He finds the scene but very little changed; 



20 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

But changed — the scene is changed. Ah, yes, for there 

Is man, the grandest work of God! But still 

The man unlearned, who knows not self, nor yet 

Of aught save preservation of himself 

And his. He barters with his kind for pelf. 

But knows not worth, and with the growling bear 

Doth fight for life until, at last, he gets 

The summons from the Mighty Hunter, — 

And travels to the hunter's happy land. 

And still that cry forever fills my soul. 

What is a life, and what am I who cries? 

And what is God, the Good, the Infinite? 

Philosophers of old had each his view. 

And so to-day. 'T was air, perhaps. Renew 

All life did air. Then numbers brought the light. 

And thus and thus. And all did seek the prize. 

But all in vain, for who could reach the goal? 

And so to-day: Each theory has its time, 

Its little sway, and then it dies, like man. 

And once again the sun looks o'er the hills: 

He sees the red-man, and he hears his myth; 

He sees the wigwam, hears the squaw with dawn 

Awake and at her work; the curling smoke 

He sees, and hears the barking of the dogs; — 

Bat more: Out on the plain the woods are cleared. 

The trees are felled, and from their trunks a hut. 

Far more pretentious than the wigwams there 

Where dwelt the chiefs. What means this broken spaced 

Who has built this almost palace of logs? 

For such indeed this little cabin seems 

To those whom the strange sight with wonder fills. 

The sun sees why this happy spot is changed. 

The sun knows now, for, sitting before the place, 

A man gathers the unlearned children of 

The forest, and tells them naught 's to be feared:— 

(Upon a white face casts the sun his beams.) 

The stately chief, whose manner like the oak 



CLA SS DA Y EXERCISES. 21 

Is tow'ring proudly o'er his little band, 

In graveness and reluctance takes the hand 

Stretched to him. The children amazed stare ; 

With curious looks the women 'round him move. 

Soon more white men appear, and from within 

The hut they come to greet the braves and all, 

With kindly looks. And often, after that, 

The sun rises to see the white man there. 

Teaching the braves the arts of peace ; and where 

Before was moral darkness like a pall, 

Had they changed to light, and taught that sin 

Was not the will of life. And on the mat 

Of skin, a present from a chief, there sat 

The braves, heard and believed in what was taught, 

And Wisdom gave her children what they sought. 

O Education, what a boon to man 
Thou art, indeed ! But canst thou tell me when 
Thou Shalt be able to give unto our ken 
The True, the Beautiful, and e'en the Good ? 
And still we grope like bats within a room 
All full of glare and light too dazzling for 
Our sight. Oh, what is God? And tell us where 
Shall we look for him, and what is our doom ? 
And Education answers, " Everywhere; 
Yes, everywhere is God. Wnere'er ye would 
Look for Him, He is found. In the wind's roar 
When it uproots the trees and the sea rends. 
The sea cries ' Here,' the trees and nature all 
' Cry ' Here is God! ' and Mother Earth, the stars, 
And man— the image of his maker— cries, 
Unconscious of his own reply, that blends 
With nature's, ' Here is God, and here the all! ' " 

Again the sun arises o'er the hills: 

The scene is wondrous changed. We know it not? 

Ah, yes, we know the scene the sun looks on. 

'Tis on Hanover's grassy plain, her trees; 

The dear old buildings, and the campus green; 



22 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

The branches' fragrance wafted by the breeze 

From her fair park, the Bema there; the vale, 

Called Tempe from the ancient Greek, where 's seen 

The sly old woodchuck, and where tells his tale 

The hermit-thrush, with clear and bell-like note ; 

The river, with its id y swinging boat; 

And yet the hills, the dear old shelt'ring hills. 

From o'er whose tops at morn the sun his beams 

Sends to us, and with gladness nature fills, 

And wakes her from her sad or happy dreams. 

We know the scene the sun looks down upon, 

A scene too soon, too soon to go, alas! 

The sun looks down upon myself and you. 

He smiles, he knows, and while he thinks, a cloud 

Comes o'er his face, for he has seen that line 

Of eager faces later scattered — gone. 

And some have left his gaze and ta'en the shroud. 

And in his heart he feels a tight'ning seize. 

He knows the sorrows of that lively spot, 

The disappointments for that hopeful mass. 

'T is us he sees, dear comrades, and ah, rue! 

His dear old heart a nameless longing fills 

To hear us bid good-bye to him with her? 

Who sends us forth to battle with the world. 



Good-bye, old Mother, we are off to strife; 
Good-bye the sun, who hast our Mother watched; 
Naught shall us from our each duty deter 
But that which shows us thee from thy course whirled. 
That force which overcomes both death and strife, 
For thou and she have told us what is life. 



ADDRESS TO THE PRESIDENT. 



Samuel Parker Hunt, Manchester, N. H. 



Most Honored and Respected Sir : — Dartmouth is 
entering upon a new era of prosperity. Many of 
the questions which have vexed the honorable 
board of trustees have been answered. Many im- 
provements are being made. We are to have a 
suitable auditorium ; we are to have the new build- 
ings we have so long needed; we are to have an 
abundant water-supply and adequate protection 
against fire ; we are to have one of the best athletic 
fields in the country; and, best of all, Dartmouth 
is no longer to be without a permanent head, but 
we are to have for president one who, by his expe- 
rience, his ability, his brilliant scholarship, and 
his wide acquaintance with men, will place us in 
a higher position than it was ever before possible 
for us to occupy. It is my privilege to extend to 
you a most hearty welcome from '93, and to wish 
you every success in the work upon which you are 
about to enter. 

The duties of a college president are not always 
pleasant, and the burdens he must bear are some- 



24 CLASS OF NTNETY-THREE. 

times heavy; but I think you will find among 
Dartmouth men a willingness to be corrected, a 
sincerity of purjiose, a love of their college, and 
an appreciation of your efforts in their behalf, 
which will render your duties light and your rela- 
tions with them most agreeable. 

As our graduation approaches, and the cares of 
the life upon which we are so soon to enter change 
from a dreamy future to a stern reality, we nat- 
urally come to a more realizing sense of the bene- 
fits we have received during our college days, and 
it seems fitting that we take this occasion to return 
to our alma mater, through you, our most sincere 
and heartfelt thanks. 

Many of us have not realized how much our 
future depended upon the care and guidance of 
the college president; but as a breath of wind on 
the mountain may determine whether a drop of 
water shall reach the sea by the St. Law^rence or 
the Hudson, so it is apparently trifling events that 
may change the whole course of a man's life. 
Many of us remember the fatherly advice we re- 
ceived when we went astray, and if we have 
thought at times we were treated rather severely, 
I think that no one, now that distance gives the 
proper perspective, can complain of any injustice. 

We would also extend our most hearty thanks 
to our instructors for their assiduous labor in our 
behalf, and for the patience and forbearance they 
have shown when w^e did not seem to appreciate 
their efforts. We have not always done as we 
should. There have been neglected opportuni- 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 25 

ties, useless habits, and unworthy acts ; yet, thanks 
to the good influences which our abna mater has 
so carefully placed about us, and to the experience 
we have gained while dwelling in this little Avorld 
of our own, we are determined that these shall not 
enter into our characters. We are resolved to go 
out into life to make the most of ourselves, to be 
worthy of old Dartmouth, and, so far as possible, 
to strive to attain a perfect manhood. 



ADDRESS TO CAMPUS. 



Edwin Jerome Heywood, Claremont, N. H. 

?^INETY-THREE meets to bid farewell to the dear 
old Campus. It is ever with feelings of sadness and 
regret that one must sever his connections with a 
spot so dear. 

Dry den says that "none would live x>ast years 
again," but in our case Dry den is wrong. There is 
doubtless not one amongst us who would not hail 
with gladness an opportunity to live again the last 
four years. Alas, that is impossible, but, if we 
cannot " live past years again," we may " all hope 
pleasure in what yet remains." 

How many of us will ever forget that eventful 
September afternoon, when, " fresh from the cradle 
of home," we strolled onto the Campus and in- 
quired the whereabouts of the President's office. 
What visions of base-ball, foot-ball, and kindred 
sports rose up before us! Ever since that day this 
Campus has been peculiarly united with our for- 
tunes. 

It is not my purpose to boast of the athletic vic- 
tories of '93, because as a class we have had very 
few victories of which to boast; still, on every Var- 
sity team, since '93's entiy, we have had our repre- 



CLASS DAY EXEJRCISES. 27 

sentatives, and it has been our good fortune to assist 
in tlie celebration of three intercollegiate cham- 
pionships, foot-ball in '90, base-ball in '92, and 
athletics in ' 93. It certainly was through no fault of 
" Cy's " or " Fergie's " that Dartmouth just didn't 
get the base-ball championship this spring. Like- 
wise, on every team the college has put forth, '93's 
men, though few in numbers, have shone out as 
stars of the first magnitude. 

How often have we met here to cheer our teams 
on to victory, and sometimes to defeat! What 
stories this campus could tell of mammoth bon- 
fires, discordant horns, college yells, and similar 
demonstrations to show our appreciation of the 
glorious victories of our various teams ! But oh ! 
those rushes — I must not forget them. Why, 
Moses in the bulrushes is not to be compared to 
a '93 man in a cane rush. The rushes in a way are 
useful, they bring the fellows closer together, 
perhaps, than any other phase of college life. 
These relations are, however, sometimes closer 
than is consistent with comfort and good health. 
Here, too, it was that we were the joyful mourners 
at the cremation of that bane of every sophomore's 
existence, conic sections. 

In yonder halls we have sought that training 
which serves to develop a vigorous mind. But that 
has not been all of our education, — it is on this 
Campus that we have acquired that quick, firm 
hand, cool head, and vigorous body, which, together 
with a well developed mind, go to make up the 
man. Much of our future success may be due to 



28 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

that pluck and perseverance, that coolness and de- 
cision, which we have acquired upon our Campus. 
All these traits, which are most necessary to suc- 
cess, could never have been obtained from books. 
It is not so much what we know that brings suc- 
cess, as the ability to apply our knowledge. 

This, classmates, is what we are about to leave. 
]S^o more will we sit beneath the shade of yonder 
trees and watch Henry run the hurdles, or our ball 
teams at practice; no more will we, of summer 
evenings, sit on the Campus fence and enjoy the 
long, quiet talks of home and the future, or listen 
to those old college songs, sung as only college 
boys know how to sing them. In another fall our 
new athletic field will be completed and the old 
Campus abandoned as a field for sports. It will 
never mean as much to the Dartmouth man of the 
future as it does to us. Allegiance will be trans- 
ferred to the new field and the Campus left to the 
ravages of time and the vandalic " townies." Thus 
it is in all the walks of life : the new takes the place 
of the old, and the old is thrown aside, like a 
broken toy, and forgotten. 

So it is with us, classmates: we are about to go 
forth and do battle with the rugged world; other 
classes will move up to fill our places, and in a 
short time '93 will be but a memory of the past. 
Although forgotten, we shall not forget. Our col- 
lege course has been a most pleasant one — four 
years which we shall remember with unalloyed 
pleasure; but the most pleasant memories of all 
will be those connected with this dear old Campus. 



ADDRESS TO UNDERGRADUATES. 



Henry Clay Sanders, Jr., Claremont, N. H. 



Fellow- Students : To-day the class of '93, in its 
turn, pays its respects to the campus, the bema, 
the tower, the old chapel, the old pine, and to you. 
Looking backward we can see many changes for 
the better which have come to the college, and 
looking forward into the future we envy you. We 
feel that we mark the line between the old and the 
new Dartmouth. For us the course has been sub- 
stantially that which has been pursued by all of 
the classes of the past decade. All of you will 
enjoy advantages, both in your college work and 
in your athletics, which we have not had. 

But however excellent the faculty, the equip- 
ment, or the various advantages of a college, its 
reputation depends largely on the conduct and 
character of its undergraduates. Those who have 
made the college famous came here in other less 
fortunate days. May those who follow strive not 
only to equal but to excel the high standard which 
has been established. 

You must not allow yourselves to become less 
zealous and active because you possess a fine field 
and athletic facilities, but let them rather stimu- 



30 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

late you to continue that systematic training which 
won the pennant for us at Worcester. We know 
that we cannot rely on natural ability alone for 
victory, but that, with hard, faithful work, will 
place Dartmouth ever in the front in all branches 
of athletics. 

One thing has been made evident to us during 
our course, and that is the necessity of care in 
choosing the managers and captains of the various 
teams. Whenever we have had efficient leaders, 
we have won. Students are apt to select their 
leaders on account of their popularity rather than 
their ability. See to it that those upon whom suc- 
cess so largely depends are no longer chosen by a 
small minority of the college. 

During its college course the class of '93 has had 
very pleasant relations with the classes with which 
it has been associated. Class feeling and rivalry 
have been subordinated to a truer feeling of col- 
lege loyalty. Dartmouth undergraduates have not 
been divided, but have worked together for the 
common interests of the college. 

We feel as we go out from the college that we 
leave behind many fast and firm friends as well 
as true and loyal Dartmouth men, and the loyalty 
of Dartmouth men to their college and each other 
has become proverbial. 

There will not be many more pleasant occasions 
in our lives than those on which we shall meet 
you here and in other and distant places, and, 
clasping your hands, recall with you our student 
days together at old Dartmouth. 



ADDRESS TO THE OLD CHAPEL. 



Almorin Orton Caswell, Orange, Mass. 



It is fitting that on this day of days, while we are 
taking leave of all the old haunts that are dear to 
every one of us, we forget not the old chapel 
which calls up memories of so many and various 
scenes. 

There is many a chapel gi-ander, more beautiful 
in design, than this bare, old-fashioned room; but 
we love it for what it suggests. It is plain, nay 
homely, to the unthinking eye, but to us it is re- 
splendent with the beauty of the heart. It is 
peculiarly the link that binds us to the past. It is 
in this old room that we have sat and listened to 
the words of those who have gone before us, as 
they have returned and given us glimpses of their 
world — the same world we so soon shall enter. In 
these old walls methinks I can still catch the echo 
of many a loyal voice, calling us to the conflict, and 
bidding us keep fresh the old laurels, while weav- 
ing a new and still more glorious crown for Dart- 
mouth, our common love. 

It is in a larger and grander sense, however, that 
the old chapel speaks to us of the past. 
Those plain, bare walls, those old pews scarred by 
the knives of many a student in the days gone by, 



32 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

the rougli floor, trodden by the feet of generations, 
all tell us of the good old days. They speak of 
rude but honest poverty, whose hard lessons 
moulded characters, — the characters that have 
made old Dartmouth all that she is to-day. 

Many are the happy memories, too, that suggest 
our own connection there. It is there that we have 
gathered in the evening to behold the wandering 
stars of the world of song, the only stars that light 
up the long, long night of a typical Hmover win- 
ter. There we have gathered, too, and made the 
galleries ring when victory was perched on Dart- 
mouth's banner. 

This is a peculiar parting: year after year has 
come and gone, class after class has gathered here 
and said a fond farewell; but ere another class 
shall assemble here, the old chapel, with all 
its wealth of suggestion, all its store of memories, 
will have passed from the sight of men and, at least 
as we have known it, be itself a memory. 

Progress demands the sacrifice involved in its 
careful re-construction; and as when at a great 
and good man's end his friends find consolation in 
precious thoughts of his noble, useful life and his 
more favored, though changed and unknown future, 
so we now rejoice in memory's well-filled pages, 
whereon are writ many a precious souvenir of this 
old place; while there is an added satisfaction in 
the thought that the historic old hall itself will 
still be left to connect us, in the years to come, 
with that greater, grauder Dartmouth that is so 
soon to be, 



ADDRESS AT THE NEW ATHLETIC FIELD. 



George "Williams Boutelle, Nashua, N. H. 



Alumni, Classmates, Underclassmen : We are as- 
sembled on this day, upon this our new athletic 
field, not only to bestow upon it a parting benedic- 
tion, to render a final adieu, but to extend to it a 
cordial greeting, to express our heartfelt words of 
welcome. United by an inseparable tie, we come 
here bringing the same feelings of pleasure, moved 
by the same spirit of gratitude and joy. Our in- 
terest in and our sympathy for dear old Dartmouth 
are always the same. To-day there is an indescrib- 
able joy penetrating to the very soul of every Dart- 
mouth man, a joy that the Dartmouth man alone 
experiences as he hails some victory, some advan- 
tage gained for his alma mater. 

Dartmouth is now entering upon an epoch of 
unprecedented prosperity. For four years we have 
seen the forces at work, advancing step by step 
until now they are operating with all their power 
for the advancement of her interests. As class- 
mates, while we are gathered upon this spot we 
are wont to be joyful, yet in a measure sorrowful. 
We are joyful because we have had the good for- 
tune of realizing, to some degree, the benefits re- 
sulting from the spirit of progression which is 
8 



34 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

rapidly lifting our dear college to tlie upper ranks 
of similar American institutions ; because we can 
look into the future and see prospects most bril- 
liant for the future Dartmouth student; joyful 
because we can look upon the beautiful green 
sward of this new athletic field and be the first to 
express our words of welcome. 

We are sorrowful and we regret that ' 93 stands 
only as a landmark between two epochs of college 
history, and that we have not been fully able to 
avail ourselves of these superior advantages. We 
would have experienced great pleasure if we could 
have seen our athletes in full array upon this field; 
if we could have sat in the grand stand and made 
it resound as we yelled them on to victory. As we 
are now so soon to separate, to sever ourselves 
from all that has become sacred to us from con- 
stant association, we delight to linger with the 
past and to recall pleasant memories of days gone 
by. Although completed at the very close of our 
college days, before we have had scarcely time to 
become associated with our new athletic field, yet 
we are associated with it: we feel it, we know it. 
Even while we stand here we can feel the welding 
of the links which bind us to it as inseparably as 
if it had been our constant companion. 

To us the old campus will ever be sacred; it has 
gained a place in our hearts that will always be 
dear. Who of us will ever forget those terrible 
cries of "Foot-ball Freshie" piercing the cool 
evening air, sending the hot blood tingling through 
all our veins; or the many times we have stood just 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 35 

outside the ropes, tlirilled with excitement and 
kindred emotions as we cheered ourselves hoarse, 
yelling for the victory? 'Tis there we have joined 
in the glorious confusion and hilarity of celebrat- 
ing victories won; there, too, where disappointed 
we have sympathized over victories not won. There 
we have watched — now hopeful, now fearful — the 
efforts of brawn and muscle as it was training for 
the contest. Yes, 'tis there we have become united 
heart and hand, forming ties never to be broken. 

In the future similar scenes will be transferred 
to this beautiful spot. The victories won here, 
the ground contested inch by inch in the struggles 
of opposing classmen to gain the mastery, the 
spirited Wah-Hoo-Wahs, will soon throw a sacred 
halo about it, making it the pride of every loyal 
Dartmouth man. 

All hail, our new athletic field ! In thy perfec- 
tion and beauty thou art most dear to us. Thou 
art our pride. Thy green, velvety sward, thy sym- 
metrical track, thy clearly cut diamond, and thy 
perfect foot-ball field will long remain fixed in our 
memory. Not many days since we beheld thee a 
barren, desolate waste, over which the husband- 
man toiled hard and long, receiving returns not 
over bountiful, seemingly of no benefit to any one, 
save, perhaps, to the weary " freshman" who lazily 
plods his way around thee with rod and chain. 
But now we behold thee transformed into a play- 
ground fit for the gods ! Already has thy influence 
been felt by the athletes who will soon grace thee 
with their presence, Whilst thou wast even in 



36 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

embryo they were spurred on to victory. Well 
may they be proud of thee, and thou of them! 
Thou hast inculcated in them the spirit of success, 
a spirit which knows no such word as defeat. 
This is the spirit that every Dartmouth man should 
have : would that there were more of it ! 

But, look! Already we seem to see the fleet 
runners as they swiftly glide over thy smooth 
track, straining every sinew to gain the lead, and 
we can see their anxious faces as they come to the 
finish, cutting the tape neck and neck. Yonder is 
the " eleven," fiercely, manfully struggling for vic- 
tory. Then, again, we seem to see the "nine" 
slowly but surely vanquishing its opponents. We 
listen, and we seem to hear the shouts of victory, 
while the echoes die away among yonder hills. 
Our new athletic field, all honor to thee ! We wish 
thee a glorious future : may thy brow be crowned 
with victories, may pennants flutter from thine 
every side, and may triumphant Wah-Hoo-Wahs 
echo and reecho from one end to the other. 

But now we must leave thee. We must soon go 
out to enter upon the mart of life, yet, as we de- 
part, we do not feel that the cords which unite us 
are severed. No, they are doubly strengthened. 
Hereafter, during the busy moments of active life, 
we will never cease to have a warm place in our 
hearts for thee, and may *' Victory" ever be thy 
motto. Farewell, our new athletic field, farewell ! 



1 



CHRONICLES. 



Perley Oakland Place, South Berwick, Me. 

It is a task of no ordinary difficulty that confronts 
your historian in his attempt to follow the devious 
course of our four years' residence in Hanover. If 
this class had been like the old-time classes, or, at 
least, like the reports we hear of the old-time 
classes, there would have been no difficulty in find- 
ing a multitude of incidents from which to choose ; 
but our class is very steady. Its history has been 
uneventful; so much so, indeed, that only one of 
the four histories which we ought regularly to 
have had has succeeded in setting forth its adven- 
tures in becoming style. Our sophomore history 
was a masterly effort, but W. W. Smith's zeal for 
economy in the public service prevented it from 
being printed. To be sure, " Gob" did present a so 
called history of our freshman year some time 
about the middle of sophomore year, but aside 
from a careful delineation of his room-mate Tet- 
low's method of life — so careful, in fact, that those 
two gentlemen were not on speaking terms for a 
year — it was a poor affair. It was said to be stolen, 
and the matter w^as very gravely discussed at class- 
meeting, but few tears were shed. As for the 



38 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

junior and senior histories, tliey were ignominious 
flunks. 

Nevertheless there have been some events in the 
course of our stay in Hanover which may be worthy 
a passing mention, and these we shall endeavor to 
set forth with a strict regard for truth and a stern 
abhorrence of all exaggeration. In every case of 
doubt we have been careful to understate rather 
than to overstate. It has been with deep regret 
that we have found it necessary to record some 
incidents which might be considered derogatory to 
the reputation of some of our classmates, and we 
make haste to say that any such incidents are 
entirely exceptional. 

The general character of our class needs no en- 
comium. The great moral advance made by the 
college during our stay has been the subject of 
frequent remark. The use of intoxicating liquors 
has been entirely unknown, all members of the 
class being total abstainers with the exception of 
Sanders and Sails. We regret to say that these 
two erring members have as yet been unable to re- 
strain the demands of a depraved taste, in spite of 
the earnest missionary work of Hawley and Aborn. 
But the best of men have their faults, and an occa- 
sional spree may be excused in view of their never- 
failing humor and jollity and their open-hearted 
good-fellowship. Nor have the members of our 
class been tempted by the wiles of the fair sex. It 
is safe to say that no class has been graduated from 
Dartmouth for fifty years so free from every sus- 
picion of chippy chasing as the class of '93. Har- 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 39 

ley is the only exception to the general rule. His 
desperate career has been a source of untold grief 
to his friends, but doubtless his errors are due to 
circumstances over which he has no control. 

It is said that the greener a man is when he 
enters the college, the smarter he is when he gets 
through. If that is the case, we must certainly be 
the smartest class ever graduated. Even " Dude" 
laughed when he saw some of our shining lights 
dismount from Allen's coach. There was Gustin, 
with a six months' growth of hair, a limp and 
faded umbrella in one hand and a corpulent valise 
in the other, gazing about upon the wonders of the 
city in helpless awe. There was Abbott, fresh from 
West Randolph in more senses than one, a look of 
combined earnestness and anxiety upon his feat- 
ures, trembling under the awful gaze of "Prexie." 
There was Silver, beginning to get an eye out for 
the girls before he left the station, and making- 
self-conscious efforts not to be a jay. There was 
Tetlow, looking, as usual, as if he had stolen a 
sheep. He was a little afraid at first, but soon re- 
membered that his mother had told him that if he 
went right along and paid no attention to other 
people, no one would speak to him. We shall not 
soon forget that remarkable coat Watson used to 
wear, nor Ross's regimentals, nor Chandler's omni- 
present and emphatic profanity, nor Selden's re- 
markable gymnastic performances at tennis, nor 
the way Harry Metcalf ran the class, nor the thou- 
sand and one other incidents of our freshman fall. 

And, by the way, speaking of Metcalf, a whole 



40 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

history might easily be written about his adven- 
tures in Hanover. It shoukl be entitled " Decensus 
Averni; or How Harry Tried to be Tough." It is 
painful for your historian to record his downfall, 
but a sense of our duty to posterity urges us on. 
There is no sadder sight in t!ie world than to see a 
noble, energetic, handsome, and ambitious youth 
gradually led away upon the paths of sin till he 
ends by becoming a dissolute and fallen wreck. 
His experience began freshman year. He went 
for a stroll one pleasant eve with one of Han- 
over's fair ones, who bore the euphonious name of 
"Kitchen Mechanics." The winged hours flew 
past, and Harry made what he considered excel- 
lent progress. But Harry has a curious idea of 
girls any way, and by way of amusing this sweet 
maiden from the Emerald isle he began to tell her 
of all the wonderful things he was learning. He 
told her how he was studying Quibe and Mediaeval 
history and foreign languages and lots of other 
nice things, and how there was not any one else in 
the Chandler school that could hold a candle to 
him. The maiden looked at him with wonder, and 
thus made reply, — "Faith, do yez, now do yez?" 
Skid happened to be on the chapel steps at the 
time, and "Chappie" and Bertha were coming up 
the street, so the truth of this incident was affirmed 
by a cloud of witnesses whose trustworthiness is 
unimpeachable. 

Caswell and McKay went to Bermuda during the 
winter, and on his return Caswell immediately dis- 
tinguished himself. A petition had been sent here 



CLASS DAY EXEBCISES. 41 

to be signed by the faculty in regard to holding the 
World's fair in New York. Caswell saw it, and at 
once signed his name directly under President 
Bartlett's. 

McKay spent Thanksgiving at home with " Chap- 
pie," and great was the sorrow of the hopeful scion 
of the Martyn family thereat. He alienated the 
affections of " Chappie's" girl, and, adding insult to 
injury, stole her photograph from the family 
album. The next Thanksgiving "Chappie" went 
home "alone. ' 

T. Willy YanHorn started to room with Dan 
Webster, and all went merry as a marriage bell 
till Jim began to put down the carpet. He pounded 
his finger, and the remarks he made in regard to 
the matter were not expressed in biblical language. 
Horn refused to be shown the error of his ways, 
and the partnership was dissolved. 

On the first night of his arrival Silver decided 
that the early bird would stand the best chance of 
getting the chippie, and started out on a campaign 
of conquest; but carelessly wandering away upon 
the side streets, he lost his way. Thereafter he 
was careful to provide himself with a compass 
upon his nocturnal expeditions. 

Bowers asked Tute Worthen to recommend him 
to some good moral roommates. Tute suggested 
Groody and Sailor Cook, and accordingly "Shorty " 
took up his abode with them ; but it did not spoil 
him: he is whiskey-proof. 

" Chappie " led a gay and joyous life those days. 
It was before the day of care and trouble and the 



42 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

laundry business and the constant dread of expul- 
sion. He sported upon the green like a lamb upon 
his native hills, only "Chappie" was not quite so 
innocent. He formed an acquaintance with a 
young lady with whom some of us are acquainted, 
commonly called "Lize," and got along first-rate 
until he insisted upon her going to prayer-meeting 
with him. That caused a sudden rupture of their 
hitherto pleasant relations in general. 

The upper classmen made no attempt to haze 
us; but one raid was made upon McQuesten, and 
his method of avoiding difiiculty gives evidence at 
once of his tireless and searching intellect and his 
retiring disposition. When he heard a knock at 
the door which he had good reason to suppose her- 
alded the approach of the would-be hazers, he 
quietly slipped into his trunk and shut down the 
cover. There he remained until the excitement 
was over. 

We had an instructor not unknown to local fame 
among the freshmen, George Dana Lord by name. 
He used to discourse eloquently upon many things, 
and among them was a certain figure of speech 
called ui7Tep<r> Tzporepov. He was vainly endeavor- 
ing to get some information on the subject out of 
Billy one day, when Billy electrified the listening 
multitude by remarking — after a careful examina- 
tion of his book — that he didn't see any such 
words in his text. 

Another man came on from the wild, wild West. 
He was the best musician in Hlinois, and was rarely 
excelled in the ancient languages, according to his 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 43 

own declarations. His name was Theodore Har- 
ley. For some months he waged unequal war 
with Shirley, Bernstein, and Jim Brown. Doors 
were battered in, heads were broken, water was 
poured down from overhead as in the ancient feudal 
days; but at length, overpowered and broken in 
spirit, our doughty champion was compelled to 
seek peace and quiet in the retreats of Thornton, 
where Bernstein and Shirley do not corrupt nor 
Jim Brown break through and steal. 

Pender was another of our shining lights in 
those days. His exploits are too numerous to be 
recorded. His paying Phil Ide five dollars for a 
steam radiator which belonged to the building is, 
perhaps, a fair sample of his freshman adventures. 

But at length our existence as freshmen drew to 
a close, and our sophomore year was ushered in 
by an oration on "The Fruits of New Jersey," by 
Charlie Gordon. We cannot delineate all the ad- 
ventures of that year. Perhaps the most notice- 
able event was the class supper at Claremont. 
Many wonderful things are said to have happened 
there. It was there that Sam Hunt came in on the 
home stretch in his contest for the spoon. They 
do say that it was necessary to ca 1 in the police- 
man to remove him from the dining-room. 

" Skid " sold all his furniture during the fall term. 
There was a great deal of speculation as to the 
cause of it. Some supposed it was to get money 
for the purchase of Cook's Commentaries on Bib- 
lical History, in which he was greatly interested 
at that time: others surmised it was to send to 



44 CLASS OF NINETY -THREE. 

missionaries, or to give to the poor; but we never 
heard that the reason was finally discovered. 

Bob Maynard blossomed out this year into a 
virulent class champion, brim full of pugnacious 
hatred tow^ard the freshmen, and burning to dis- 
tinguish himself against them. He succeeded to 
such an extent that he was separated from the col- 
lege for a period of weeks, along with one or two 
others of our ambitious classmates, and was only 
recalled by a united and desperate effort on the 
part of his friends and fellow-students. After that 
his freshness gradually evaporated, and when Sil- 
ver compelled him to go down on his knees in 
front of Eeed hall and apologize to him, it practi- 
cally put an end to his career of conquest. 

Russell and Sam Hunt were walking along near 
Tri Kap hall one day, when a stranger in the town 
stopped them and asked if they were students of 
the Agricultural college. "No," replied Russell, 
" I am J. B. Russell, 2d. I am leading my class at 
the Chandler school! " 

During the fall term Harley arose in the pride of 
his strength — casting aside all his Christian train- 
ing, forgetful of his mother's j)arting advice, and 
disregarding his obligations to the Y. M. C. A. — 
and malevolently stole the college pump, in com- 
pany with the devil and other kindred spirits, 
among whom may be mentioned the "late lamented 
G. C. Smith." 

Aborn took a trip up to Pompanoosuc and saw 
there a girl who made a great impression on his 
susceptible heart. He determined to make her 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 45 

acquaintance, and it was only after an hour of 
heroic endeavor, and all sorts of devices on his 
part to get up a conversation, that he discovered 
that she was deaf and dumb. 

Merrill taught in the winter, and went one night 
to stay all night with Dayton. When he got ready 
to go away in the morning he said to the lady of 
the house, " You wouldn't take anything, would 
you, for keeping me last night?" 

It was in those days that Saben used to go to 
" Pa Leeds's " receptions every week; that Georgie 
used to say when he got angry with any one that 
he would give them a full page in the '"93 ^gis, 
by Gosh ! " ; that "Teddy " Weston made such blood 
curdling efforts to play ball — since then he has 
been very cynical on the baseball question; that 
Burbank used to get sent out of recitation every 
day because Goss made a noise; that Benton 
began to withdraw from the mystic circle of the 
townies; that C. A. French fell into the rushing 
torrent of the Connecticut while out surveying, for 
reasons that can only be surmised; that Gustin 
delivered his famous debate upon the question 
whether the " Canaanians" should be annexed or 
not; and a host of other things happened which 
we cannot repeat. 

During junior year we were more quiet; but 
Sam Hunt could not let a whole year go by without 
doing something worthy of recording. Desiring to 
find out the effects of alcoholic stimulants, he at- 
tended a dance at G. A. E. hall ; after being lion- 
ized by Hanover's choicest society, he returned to 



46 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

his room. It took McLaren an hour to get him to 
bed, and Mac was heard to say that he hoped 
Sam's scientific investigations would lead him in 
some other direction next time. 

Arnold elected Greek this year, and found that 
it demanded more faculty chinning than he had 
ever applied heretofore. It took him nearly an 
hour one day to convince Roots that he had not 
been vising a horse in the preparation of his lesson. 
But we all told Roots that we felt sure Arthur 
would never do anything of that sort, and he finally 
got out of it. It was in this study that he told tlie 
professor that the Syracusans were afraid the 
Greeks would cross the Black sea on the ice. 

Morrill fell asleep one day in this class. After 
having been called three times Aborn waked him 
up. He rubbed his eyes and asked what the deuce 
he wanted. He was given his book and assisted 
upon his feet, and made a phenomenal rush. Roots 
remarked that Sparhawk's recitation must have 
had a soporific effect upon him, Sparhawk having 
just made one of his only and inimitable flunks. 

Goss had a real live horse, all his own, this year, 
and it is safe to say that there were but few girls 
in Hanover that did not take at least one ride after 
it. His popularity increased in geometric ratio 
while the horse remained in town. One day he 
drove around back of Thornton hall, and seeing 
Professor Weed standing there he said, "Say, hold 
my horse a minute here, will you? I want to go 
up stairs." He had a barrel of apples, too, but the 
Wentworth hall triumvirate stole them. He en- 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 47 

deavored to get them back by the aid of the sher- 
iff, but they had disappeared from off the face of 
the earth. 

Junior honors M^ere bestowed in accordance with 
the time honored custom, and the recipients were 
in general well satisfied with them; the award of 
the spurs to Cox was particularly happy. Coxie 
thought it would injure his reputation, but most 
of us thought there was not much danger of that. 

Kinney took notes on "Pa Leeds's" sermons 
industriously all through the year. Most of us 
don't get much good out of those sermons, but he 
evidently did, for a most remarkable similarity 
was to be noticed between them and the sermons 
he preached in the surrounding towns. 

Wright determined to be a sport this year and 
went and bought him a spring suit like Jim Yan- 
Horn's; Jim never wore his again. During the 
spring term Elam went down to the library and 
drew out "Quaternions," by A. S. Hardy, taking 
it for a novel. He was considerably surprised at 
finding it to be mathematics beyond Calculus and 
concluded he would not read it. 

We took chemistry a part of the year and some 
of the boys distinguished themselves wonderfully 
in it. The King in particular was a star. He was 
making gas one day with shingle nails and an acid. 
Bubby asked him what the gas was. Chappie 
thought it must be nail-gas. 

By the time we reached the beginning of senior 
year we had of course become much soberer and 
more careful as to oiir actions than in the previous 



48 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

years. But, nevertheless, a few incidents occurred 
that served to show that all the sports were not 
dead yet. 

Early in the year " Silver " set out for Concord to 
keep an engagement with a young lady of that 
city, who lived, as he thought, at number 264. On 
arriving he discovered to his unbounded amaze- 
ment that number 264 was a schoolhouse. In vain 
he hesitated and whistled and twisted his mous- 
tache and called himself a jay. No fair maiden 
made her appearance. He called at the back door 
of the schoolhouse, only to be informed by the 
sharp-featured Yankee schoolma'am that she had 
no pupil of that name. But at length the mistress 
of his affections happened to perceive him from 
where she was anxiously awaiting his arrival, and 
sent a man down to notify him of his mistake. 
The man came out and shouted, "Say, it's254j " 
"No, it aint," said "Silver," "it's 264." A heated 
argument ensued, and it was only when the young 
lady came out on the steps and beckoned to him 
that "Silver" allowed himself to be enticed away 
from the schoolhouse. 

Of "Silver's" adventures it may truly be said 
that the half was never told ; but in recitations he 
never failed to win the approval of his instructors, 
and often in addition the applause of his class- 
mates. For instance, the explanation he gave of 
the law of diminishing returns in agriculture was 
at the same time lucid and comprehensive, and 
won the deserved applause of all spectators. 

During the winter vacation Eddie Griffith went 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 49 

to see his girl. That was all right. We have no 
objections if she was satisfied, and presumably she 
was. But when it came time to depart — precise 
hour not to be disclosed — and Eddie went out to 
get his horse, he found that he had overestimated 
his knowledge of horses and their belongings, and 
could not succeed in putting on the bridle. After 
a half hour spent in useless efforts he was obliged 
to go back to the house and arouse the young lady, 
who had by this time retired and was plunged in 
peaceful slumber, and ask for her assistance. She 
in turn woke up her father, and he, after having 
looked carefully at the clock, pulled on a pair of 
trousers and put on the headstall. 

We have mentioned the fact that Sam Hunt gen- 
erally has a good appetite, but still there's more 
to follow. At the press club banquet he distin- 
guished himself anew, by eating twice as much as 
anyone else, making the best speech of the even- 
ing, and finally, to complete the record of the even- 
ing, stealing all the silverware within reach. The 
act was discovered, however, and Sam was forced 
to make unwilling reparation. 

'A new comet appeared among tlie old estab- 
lished stars of '93 during this year, Schimmler by 
name, a German by nation, and an Amherst man 
by profession. We earnestly hoped that the orbit 
of his comet might be a parabola and carry him 
out of Dartmouth college ere the year should 
close, but we fear that he has been permanently 
attracted by the mass of our central luminaries. 
One day Schimmler came into recitation late, as 



50 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

usual. The class began to applaud. Prexie held 
up his hand with a deprecatory gesture. " No use 
for that! "be said. We have been wondering ever 
since whether he meant Schimmler or the noise. 

Gustin attended the fire at Colby's and lent val- 
iant service to arrest the progress of the devouring 
element. But in his earnestness to win fame as a 
pail-carrier, he made a slip and fell head first into 
the cistern, from which he was drawn forth by the 
heels, considerably to the detriment of his new 
store clothes. 

' ' Grob ' ' spent the vacation with Hey wood at 
Claremont, and imitating the noble example of Mc- 
Kay, he began active operations to alienate the 
affections of Hey wood's girl. This was the easier 
because the girl had already heard some reports of 
Ned's escapades at Hanover, and those adventures 
not all being of a character that would command 
her hearty approval, she was ready to listen to the 
siren voice of a member of the Y. M. C. A. So 
"Gob" prospered for a time. He came back to 
Hanover with his spirit elated by hope and a new 
necktie. Hardly had he reached the town when 
he sat down to write her a letter. 

"My dear Miss Blank:" he began. "But yes- 
terday I was the happiest man in two hemispheres. 
I was basking in the sunlight of your presence, 
and was within the sight of your lovely face. The 
sun shone as brightly as the star of hope and the 
birds sang gaily all day in the green fields. Now 
all is blank despair. The light of my life is gone 
out and I no longer care to live but to cherish the 



CLA SS DA Y EXER CISES. 51 

hope of seeing again your dear face or reading the 
words your fairy hand has penned. I have noth- 
ing to relieve the gloom but a tiny handkerchief. 
I hope you will forgive the theft. Ah! How oft 
has this bit of lace and muslin been pressed to 
tliose ruby lips! How oft has it been clasped by 
the fingers I would give my hope of heaven to kiss. 
But I can only kiss its soft folds and sigh in vain 
for its owner." 

Day by day " Gob" sought the post-office in anx- 
ious expectation of a letter from the fair one; but 
the letter never came. At length when he had 
nearly given up hope, a letter came which bore the 
mystic legend, "Claremont." Eagerly he tore it 
from its envelope and read: "Dear Sir: I am well 
and hope you are the same. Yours truly. Blank." 

Not all of our classmates have derived the same 
amount of profit from their college course. For 
example, in one of "Grabe's" lectures this spring, 
after the life of George Eliot had been dwelt upon 
for some time, " Doc" Lougee asked the man who 
sat next him if George was a woman. And Mc- 
Questen sent an invitation to one of his young lady 
friends beginning, "I hereby invite you to com- 
mencement," etc. That shows what a few weeks 
of "Dude" will do for a man. 

We all supposed that our baseball team had con- 
siderable fun on their spring trip, but we were a 
little surprised to learn of "Si's" escapade at 
Greenfield. Thereby hangs a tale, but we don't 
propose to tell it. Ask Bob Thornburgh. 

Sam French has shown the most marked im- 



52 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

provement during his senior year. He now looks 
back with remorse upon the time when Bob and 
Aborn helped him sow his wild oats. Since he 
has become a dweller at the observatory on the 
hill he has come under the wholesome influence of 
G. C, and has grown daily in strength and grace. 
His latest exploit was to deliver a lecture on Eti- 
quette before the Christian Endeavor society at 
Etna. 

" Georgie " Pender has somehow conceived a 
gi'owing distaste for this town of late. We suspect 
that there was no little truth in the song that 
Tutti Frutti sung. At any rate he has been often 
heard to remark, " Just let me get my hand on my 
diploma, and I will get out of this town so quick." 
It is certainly to be hoped that no one will attempt 
to stop him. 

There are various ways of getting on commence- 
ment. Some peoi^le, like Selden, get on by their 
gall; others, like Arnold, because they are Y. M. 
C. A. men; others, whom we must not mention, 
by judicious cribbing, but Tetlow has very sensi- 
bly chosen the easiest method, and got on by chin- 
ning the faculty. It is not always, however, that 
such attempts result successfully; in "Slicky's" 
case the result was somewhat different. He deliv- 
ered a fearful and wonderful lecture on the planet 
Mars, illustrated with maps and all the latest appli- 
ances, in the hoj)e of obtaining a fellowship for next 
year; but it did not work. However he will prob- 
ably come back next year just the same. Hanover 
has great attractions for him since the last girl 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 63 

came to work for Ma'am Swett. "Slicky" goes 
about as one in a dream, and plans to stay in Han- 
over star-gazing another year. 

Saltmarsli is not much better off. After a manly 
and upright life for eleven twelfths of his course 
he has at last succumbed to the irresistible attrac- 
tions of a girl over at Norwich. Gustin wrote a 
letter to him signed by her name, asking him to be 
sure and come over on a certain evening. Saltie 
went, and returned in the wee small hours of the 
night. Since then he has worn a ring and goes 
about the streets with an ethereal expression 
which is really painful. 

Smith has been our monitor ever since "Chap- 
pie" got bounced. It was quite a change to go from 
the king of monitors to W. W. Smith at one step, 
but it had to be done. Under Smith's regime the 
office has recovered the root meaning of the word, 
for Smith is a warning indeed to all future genera- 
tions. It is a real curiosity to see him marking 
cuts to save the trouble of looking around so 
much, and half cuts whenever a man flunks. It is 
even reported that a man gets a quarter cut under 
him for a fizzle, but as to that we have no definite 
information. 

Dayton has continued on his placid course as 
usual. The traditions of freshman year still cling 
to him. About his room hang a multitude of 
ornaments, and when he is asked whence these 
wonderful things come, he replies with enthusiasm 
"From die Soldiers' Home." 

In the earlier part of the year "Shorty " sold some 



54 CLASS OF NINETY-THBE^. 

hops to Joe Broggi. The very fact of liis selling 
hops would not in this case lead us to believe any 
wrong of a man whose reputation is as fixed as 
that of our friend Shorty. But when you add to 
that the fact that he was known to have a good 
deal of difficulty in collecting his pay, and was 
seen to go in and out of there very frequently 
afterwards, it certainly does begin to look a little 
suspicious, but we hope it's all right. 

"Georgie" Dodge, our pretty boy, the recipient 
of the mirror, has changed for the last two years, — 
ever since he began to live up at Lyme. Some of 
his friends do say that his goodness is of the 
external kind and does not extend in very deep, 
but we trust that is not so. For our part, we see 
no reason why his prospects are not bright for the 
future. 

We have had one of those Down-East Yankees 
with us for four years. Furnel has screwed the 
money out of every man in the class. Talk about 
trading, he sold that book of his to every man in 
college. If he could not get money for it he took 
his pay in barter. It is said to be the fact that 
Flint paid for his copy with a bushel of potatoes. 
Furnel can see a dollar at a distance greater than 
that of the planet Jupiter. 

His room mate, Stanley, is another type of the 
inhabitants of the state of Maine. He goes away 
to work in hotels every summer, and comes back 
and writes poetry about his experiences. He takes 
moonlight walks along the sandy beach with the 
fair maids of the chamber and the kitchen, and 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 55 

goes into ecstasies about them in the Lit. the next 
fall. It is nice to have a poetic soul, so that the 
fact that the fair maid washed the kitchen floor 
just after supper does not detract from the sweet- 
ness of her presence in the evenino;. 

Rufus Baker's girl did not find out that he 
smoked until this year. She was very sad, and 
would not be consoled for many moons; but at 
length, upon finding that he smokes so gracefully, 
she consented to overlook it. 

Kellar also fell from grace this year. He sat 
upon the steps till a late hour one night with Lize, 
and was not able to get up in time for recitation 
the next morning. ' ' Gabe ' ' asked him when grant- 
ing an excuse if he was "a little out of tune this 
morning." 

Those steps at Sally Prex's have been the scene 
of many a charming idyl. Rowell has been the 
latest hero. He has been taking care of the cow 
during the last term. He says she gives a good 
mess. 

Redenbaugh was out in New York with me last 
year canv^sing, and I know many things. But he 
has made special request, as " Georgie" did of the 
*94 ^^gis, that no mention be made of these little 
matters. We have decided to accede to his request, 
but it necessitates leaving out the best part of the 
history. 

Horace Greeley has one little peculiarity which 
it now becomes our duty to explain. He cannot 
make the clucking sound commonly employed to 
make a horse go. Not a very long time ago he 



56 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

took a friend of his of whom he thinks a great 
deal — she is a graduate of Smith college — to ride, 
and wound up with a supper at a big hotel. When 
it came to driving away from the door, Hod 
could not make the horse start. He slapped the 
reins and jerked this way and that, and requested 
him to "go on," but all to no purpose. The 
animal was well trained, and was waiting for the 
customary cluck. The bystanders began to gather 
about and inquire if the horse was balky. Hod 
thought not. At length the youn^ lady inquired 
why he did not cluck to him. Hod was obliged to 
acknowledge that he couldn't; so she did the 
clucking and he held the reins, and they drove off 
amid great applause from the bystanders. 

McKenzie saw his room mate having so much 
fun that he determined to try it, so he advertised 
in the Saturday Telegram for a correspondent, and 
got on finely. By and by he sent her his photo- 
graph, and all was well. But it seems she had 
been married two weeks; and at the next session 
of court she was divorced from her husband. An 
innocent woman was thus made the victim of cir- 
cumstantial evidence, and Mac has no more corre- 
spondents. 

About once a week Quin has made it a principle 
to hitch up that yellow wagon and go down to Leb. 
Various and wonderful are the tales that might be 
told of those expeditions. It is said the policemen 
spot the yellow wagon and never calculate to lose 
sight of its occupant while it is in the town. 

Van Horn and "Roller" came up from Brattle- 



CLASS DAY EXEMCISES. 57 

boro together at the beginning of the winter term. 
As they sat together in the cars "Roller's" girl 
came along outside to bid him good-bye, and nodded 
to him. Van sat next to the window, and took it for 
granted she was bowing to him. He returned the 
bow with interest, and began to shove up the win- 
dow; but the chilling gaze he got in reply lowered 
all the surrounding temx^erature, and he was 
recalled to the active duties of life by a "biff on 
the cocoanut" from "Roller," and the remark, — 
" By Jew ! You better look out there ! " 

Runnels has been a very quiet boy of late. He 
got out of several disagreements with the faculty 
in the earlier years of our course on account of his 
youth. Some one ought to have plucked them by 
the sleeve and inf ornied them that, though young 
in years, he was as o d as Methuselah in experi- 
ence. But of late, having presumably reached 
years of discretion, he has had no such difficulties. 

Ferguson has worked at the Wlieelock at various 
times. The Wlieelock is a nice place to work. 
There are generally some girls there; there have 
been girls there when "Fergie" was there; "Fer- 
gie " always got on famously with them. It was a 
real circus to see them come around and chuckJiim 
under the chin. " Fergie " liked that firstrate. 

But, speaking of " Roller," we forgot something. 
One of the boys went down to Brattleboro' with 
him a while ago, and they met on the street an old 
man of ancient appearance and a sardonic smile 
with whom "Roller" fell into conversation. At 
first the old man did not recognize him, but when 



58 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

"Roller" explained who he was, the old fellow 
was delighted. "Be you Sarah Mason's boy?" he 
cried. " Come in and have a beer! " 

Pelton has been a regular star among the fair 
maids of Hanover. He has often voiced the senti- 
ment that he has a dead cinch on all of them, and 
so far as we have been able to learn no one has 
been inclined to dispute the honor with him. It 
is, undoubtedly, a great thing to have the inside 
track on anything; but on the whole we think we 
should prefer to have the inside track on some 
other turf. 

Eaton has determined to study law and emulate 
Daniel Webster; but where he made his mistake 
was in consulting "Dude" about it. "Dude" 
said, — "Mr. Eaton, are you going to study law?" 
" Yes, sir," replied Eaton. "Are you sure? " " Yes, 
sir." "Mr. Eaton," replied "Dude," "do not 
decide yet. You are too young to know your own 
mind." 

In municipal law Cox made a dead flunk. We do 
not mean to imply that this was the first flunk he 
bad ever made, for such, we believe, is not the 
case; but the professor rubbed in this particular 
flunk by saying sarcastically that this was a diffi- 
cult subject in which to extemporize, and that 
attempts to recite upon the impulse of the moment 
would generally result in failure. Cox stayed and 
chinned him half an hour after recitation, trying to 
get the zero removed. 

We have been very much surprised at what we 
have learned about Abbott of late. It looks to us 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 69 

like rather a poor way of doing things to behave 
for eleven terms and get on the right side of the 
faculty and then begin to cut up senior spring. 
He and Metcalf have become notorious. He has 
bribed young McCarthy, but it's no use. Murder 
will out. We are very sorry. 

It was not long after this that Wright went to a 
dance at Norwich. He was introduced to a girl 
and asked her if she was engaged for the first 
dance. She replied that she was. He tried the 
second. She was engaged for that, too. And so on 
right down through the list. When he came to 
the last dance, she said, "Well, really, I would 
rather have some one else." 

But we must draw our varied story to a close. 
Time would fail us to tell of Billy Mann, who was 
born tired and has been growing worse ever since; 
of how Deacon Kinney was seen on the streets 
with " Lize" ; how Ide waited at the stage entrance 
of the theatre one night to see the actresses, and 
was doused with a pail of water by some of the 
theatre people overhead; how Dayton was found 
in Howe's kitchen with the maid in his lap; of E. 
S. Miller's great and justifiable distrust of woman- 
kind, and its causes; of how "Bug" Allen tries to 
swear; how "Bottle" met the school teacher at West 
Lebanon and the long train of unpleasant results 
that followed; of Chandler's ambitious wire-pul- 
ling and its melancholy results; of "Jakey" Das- 
comb's sermons and his pulpit adventures; of 
Willis Tucker's chapel oration and the melodious 
tones of his flute; of how "Doc" Lougee ran the 



60 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

faro bank and Wright asked " Gabe " about trying 
for final honors in psychology ; how ' ' Fergie ' ' found 
his grip full of ladies' wearing apparel on the 
spring trip; how McLaren acted as head-waiter in 
the summer, and all the rest of the adventures 
from grave to gay, from lively to severe, that have 
dotted our college course. 

Classmates, we have related with as much 
impartiality as we could command, some of the 
incidents of our four years' stay in Hanover. Our 
course here is over and in a few days we shall go 
forth from our alma mater and take our several 
ways just as a hundred classes have done before 
us and a hundred classes will do after us. ISTever 
again will the old bell in the steeple of Dartmouth 
hall summon us to recitation. Never again shall 
we stand beneath the halloAved branches of the old 
pine. We shall gather no more upon the campus, 
we shall meet no more for morning prayers in 
Rollins chapel. But wherever we may go, how- 
ever distant may be the scene of our future work, 
we shall not forget the old college on the Connect- 
icut. We shall carry with us upon our journeys 
varied memories of Dartmouth college and the 
class of ninety three. 



PROPHECIES. 



Hakry Nutting Dascomb, Westminster, Vt. 



A prophet of evil, like clouds which forebode 
the approaching storm, seldom receives a ready 
welcome; on the contrary, an auspicious omen, as 
the first robin's note, the harbinger of glad spring- 
time, is always welcomed. Whether you look upon 
me to-day as a gloomy thunder-cloud or a winged 
songster, the herald of destruction or a messenger 
of glad tidings, will be decided as I proceed. 

At the outset, let me assure you, my trembling 
classmates, as in fancy 1 conduct your faltering 
footsteps to the mountain top and point out to you 
along the hazy outlines of the distant horizon the 
scenes of the future, some of joyous conquest, 
others of grievous defeat, that 1 would add nothing 
to increase the solemnity or mar the happiness of 
these farewell exercises. 

As a mantle constructed from a large number of 
separate threads of different hues and sizes, mis- 
cellaneously selected and woven into its finer tex- 
ture, must present a variegated appearance, con- 
taining here a gay, brilliant spot, which draws out 
a smile from the beholder, and there a dark, 
homely figure of a gloomy aspect, so the record of 



62 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

any class of seventy members must contain high 
reaches of genius, calling forth the applause and 
praises of men, while other unfortunate beings, 
struggling against an unconquerable fate, elicit the 
pity of mankind. To present you to-day a pen 
panorama of the lives of the men of '93 is no easy 
task. Like my predecessors I first sought inspira- 
tion. But alas! — 

•* The oracles are dumb; 

No voice or hideous hum 
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving; 

Apollo from his shrine 

Can no more divine, 
"With h How shriek the steep of Delphos leaving; 

No mighty trance or breathed spell 

Inspires me from the prophetic cell." 

Thus rejected, I watched the heavens for a sign, 
requested " Slicky " to interpret several astrologi- 
cal phenomena, studied the flight of birds, hired 
" Jane " to examine the entrails of Dr. ChajDman's 
last victim — which service he gladly rendered, 
after asking about a dozen questions — and finally, 
with only the least, lingering ray of hope, called 
on Smith to examine his " horses," that perad- 
venture I might find the "Scroll of the Fates" 
translated into English. ]S"o assistance could be 
found. Can it be that I must extract from this 
barren and empty head of mine the destinies of 
such a distinguished class? No; I will wait a 
little longer. 

For the next week I listened to the whispering 
breezes, as they played in the tender foliage of an 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 63 

elm growing by my study window. It was all in 
vain: it must be done. Accordingly, I locked 
myself in my room and began to write. Recalling 
the familiar quotation, that "Every man is the 
architect of his own fortunes," I examined care- 
fully the character of the foundations and super- 
structures, as far as completed, that you individ- 
ually have laid; and I shall merely add a harmoni- 
ous finish to the work already begun. 

Naturally I would begin with the class leader, 
and so I will first tell you about " Chapi)ie." See? 
His mental acumen, the extension of his brain cav- 
ity by a physical projection in the back of his 
skull, his uncontrollable desire for knowledge, 
foretold the philosopher of later years. ' ' Chappie," 
though always a good scholar, especially distin- 
guished himself in Psychology. He returns for a 
post-graduate course, and under the direction of 
"Gabe" pursues this study. His eagerness and 
enthusiasm increase as his horizon recedes and 
the vast fields of learning greet his expectant eyes. 
From the " trees of knowledge " that thickly cover 
this boundless territory he gathers his food, under 
their dense foliage he seeks protection, and in 
their extended arms he finds rest. Fifteen years 
after graduation he is designated as " The Philoso- 
pher," a term which he holds without reproach 
until the day of his death. A monument reaching 
to the skies commemorates the life of the greatest 
"King" of all times. 

The year 1920 A. D. finds Caswell located in a 
small office in the heart of Boston — a professional 



64 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

joker and funny man. Different, and yet the same 
old boy ! So hospitable and congenial that if you 
call on him and have time to listen he will chatter, 
bubble, and babble on in his own inimitable style. 
As he sits perched on a high stool writing at his 
desk, at the slightest provocation he will set up 
that chipmunk prattle of his, and when out of 
breath looks round over his listeners for applause, 
and then concentrates all his energies on a lusty 
grin. Immediately after graduation he was ac- 
cepted as a reporter for the Hanover Gazette, and 
a little later became editor of the "Budget of Fun" 
column of the Manchester Telegram. He finally 
took the position of sport correspondent for the 
Boston Globe. If you wish to call on him never 
take a lady with you, for if one ever enters the 
office it is his signal for a back-door exit. 

The trio of American naturalists consists of E. S. 
Miller, geologist, "Jane" Tetlow, "bugologist," 
and Eussell, who travels for sport. They tramp 
around the country and share life in common. 
While Miller loads his cart with some rare rocks, 
and "Jane" is in hot pursuit of some winged 
insect, or exercising his genius in fruitless endeav- 
ors to cage a bug, or is making a close examination 
of some scratches in the rocks, you will lind Rus- 
sell in some sheltered bower, nestling close beside 
a female form, engaged in a loving tete-a-tete, sug- 
gesting a pair of cooing doves during the mating 
season. It 's queer that while Miller and " Jane " 
never notice any women, Russell is rarely without 
their company. Wherever he wanders he always 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 65 

finds a ready partner — doubtless due to a heavy- 
endowment of animal magnetism. Later Miller 
becomes president of the New Hampshire Antiqua- 
rian society, and devotes himself to a study of fos- 
sils. "Jane" publishes a book entitled "Bugs 
under the Microscope," and distributes among 
scientists an essay claiming that rock scratches 
were made by powerful and gigantic hens in search 
of food centuries ago, and not by moraines as here- 
tofore supposed.. I consider his argument well 
taken. 

Now 'tis poor "Jimmy" Van's turn. What is 
lie going to do? "Jimmy," terrified by the exten- 
sive "plucking" at the final examinations of the 
medical department, and disheartened hj the 
"Dude's" daily slaughters in the recitation room, 
concludes that the studies of law and medicine are 
too difficult for him. Also aware of his own 
spiritual depravity, and strengtliened in his belief 
by the fact that the Lord has never given him any 
urgent call to enter the ministry, he is surely pre- 
cluded from pursuing a theological course. Busi- 
ness and money are what he craves. Heywood is 
burdened with the same perplexities and desires. 
They met one day and decided to go together to 
Philadelphia and work into Wanamaker's estab- 
lishment. They began at the foot of the ladder. 
"Jimmy," with his marshal grace, did good ser- 
vice as door-tender, and Ned made a good errand- 
boy, being always at hand, and delivering messages 
with alacrity. Their fidelity, integrity, and capa- 
bilities soon brought them to notice; and slowly 
5 



66 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

but steadily, step by step, through the stages of 
cash-boy, clerk, travelling agent, stockholder, they 
both progressed, and soon Heywood and Van Horn 
were equal partners in the great firm. Let me 
state that by the change the Sunday-school work 
of their predecessor was not disturbed. 

Elam Wright, after graduation, applied to the 
directors of the TYorld's Fair for a job as chair- 
wheeler. His courteous manner and tidy appear- 
ance secure the position. During off hours he 
runs a jobbing-cart in the city, and picks up a fair 
living. After acquiring a small capital he opens a 
livery-stable. Soon after entering the new busi- 
ness, help being scarce at his terms, he writes a 
letter to B. F. Gustin, Groton, Mass. It was ten 
years since Gustin turned his back on Dartmouth 
and began to lay his plans for convincing the pop- 
ulace that he Avas a college graduate. That was a 
hard task. Away from his mother and the tender 
care and wise counsel of his college guardian, Mrs. 
Swett, the wayward boy found out that life was 
not so easy. The rough road to success led 
through tangle and ambush, and was frequently 
undermined with pitfalls and cisterns. His path 
was strewn with trouble. To cut the matter short, 
he discovered that the ministiy, which course was 
decided by tossing up a cent, closed its doors 
against him. He ti'ies teaching, but there, like- 
wise, he suffers violence. In despair he cries, 
*' Gee whiz ! Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? " 
His simple, earnest prayer was answered. That 
very day he received two letters : one from Wright 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 67 

asking Gustin to become liis stable-groom, the 
other from that Yassar girl who used to compose 
such beautiful verses, rejecting Gustin as her 
bridegroom. Under this pressure Gustin broke 
down and told his folks, who supposed him home 
only for a few days' vacation, all his misfortunes. 
They covered their faces and wept aloud, "O my 
son, Byron! O Byron, my son, my son! why hast 
thou brought our gray hairs with sorrow to the 
grave?" Gustin accepted the position in Wright's 
stable. 

Pelton, whose only failing was his unconqu.erable 
passion for the aesthetics, in course of time works 
his way into the senate. It was soon after lie took 
his seat that the periodic agitation of the crinoline 
was disturbing the female world. The women, 
catering to the tastes of man, called upon their 
learned admirers to decide the matter. Pelton, 
who has always acted as a sort of interpreter or 
intermediator between man and woman, was pecul- 
iarly interested in the subject. Impressed with 
the barbarity of conformity to fashion, and recog- 
nizing the righteousness of the cause, he deliv- 
,ers a maiden speech in its behalf two hours in 
length, abounding in wit, pathos, and logic, alter 
which he introduces a bill to abolish the nefarious 
and ungainly use of the crinoline, and to punish 
all violations thereof by ostracism from soci- 
ety. Senator Maynard, of Vermont, formerly of 
Springfield, Mass., thought this rather severe pun- 
ishment, and suggested that Congress ought to 
make an appropriation for constructing a home, 



68 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

which should be endowed with sufficient funds to 
provide for the comfort of aU sent thither for 
imprisonment. His suggestion went down . as an 
amendment, and the bill passed both houses. 
Later, Senator Maynard had the audacity to state 
that his business relations were of such a character, 
that if he was not returned to his seat in the sen- 
ate in the coming elections, as he had reasons to 
doubt, he would accept the management of this 
women's retreat at a very low salary. You can 
picture ex-Senator Maynard, twenty years hence, at 
the evening hour — and at any other hour, for that 
matter — leisurely sitting on the veranda of an 
immense dormitory, chair tipped back, feet ui^on 
the railing, smoking a thirty-dollar meerschaum 
pipe, the gift of his beloved classmates. 

Kinney, after leaving college, returns to his old 
haunts in the slums of New York. He labors ear- 
nestly and faithfully in beh ilf of the low victims 
of vice, and much misery is alleviated: homes 
that formerly were scenes of contention and strife 
become the abiding places of peace and love. His 
good cheer and hearty smile make him a welcome 
guest in the most poverty-stricken and humble 
abode. At sixty years of age he is as spry and 
alert as when he played ball in college. 

"Ted" Weston, not being obliged to work for a 
living, bought a costly residence in the wealthy 
portion of New York. He married a beautiful, 
amiable, refined, and intelligent lady. The home 
was made still brighter by the advent of three 
lovely children. He was always contented to 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 69 

spend his evenings and much of the daytime in tlie 
midst of his happy family. " Ted" was a faithful 
husband and father, and his pleasant domestic 
relations made a delightful retreat for all class- 
mates visiting the city, vrho were cordially invited 
to feast at his table. "Ted" kept a fine stable of 
fast horses, which won for liim many a hot race. 
He was prominent in literary and political circles, 
■ and for several years was mayor of the city. 

Although "Zac" Chandler enters life as an 
attorney at law, his profession never can blur the 
glistening radiations of all those amiable charac- 
teristics that his person, words, and deeds emit. 
In the practice of his profession he always shows 
sympathy for those in distress. He acquires great 
renown for his earnest i^/eas. His oratorical pow- 
ers, combined with the shrewdness and tact of a 
keen lawyer, make him a power in the court-room. 
His words of learned length and thundering sound 
amaze t ;e inquisitive spectators, befriend bis inno- 
cent and trembling clients, terrify the opposing 
lawyers, and win the conviction of the jurymen. 
Later he becomes a ward politician. 
'"Gob," "Billy" Jarvis, Aborn, and Harley 
travel (mostly on foot) over the country in a com- 
pany, best described by the two words, "Minstrel 
Medley," — with the exception of "Billy," a rather 
" hay-seedy" looking troupe. Aborn, the director, 
is impersonator, reader, juggler, and w^hen neces- 
sary can blow a trombone most awfully. Harley 
trudges along the dusty roads, with his pants 
turned up, a slouch hat partly covering — thank 



70 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

Heaven! — as down-cast, sullen, and villainous an 
expression as ever rested upon a human being's 
face. Place that enormous bass-viol on his back, 
and the picture is complete. Ko wonder the dogs 
bark, the horses shy, and the children flee to their 
mothers. For the entertainment Harley furnishes 
the solos, gives a "stag-dance," and saws the bass- 
viol. "Billy," the treasure of the company, is the 
only sport. He plays the guitar and serves as end- 
man. " Gob " is the funny man. I tell you, when 
he gets blacked up a little and is feeling in good 
spirits, how he will make the girls laugh ! He is 
story-teller, poet, end man, and nigger fiddler. 
"Grob" puts in his best work after the entertain- 
ment among some of his female admirers. 

Of Sails and Stanley we may well be proud. 
Often shall I have occasion to remark that "Sails 
was my neighbor at the boarding-club, and with 
Stanley I used to swim." They both entered the 
sacred profession, and each led in his own denom- 
ination. Sails a Presbyterian, and Stanley a Con- 
gregationalist. In the words of another, let me 
describe them both, — 

" He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, 
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. 
At church, with meek and unaffected grace, 
His looks adorned the venerable place; 
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway. 
And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray. 
The service past, around the pious man, 
With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; 
Even children followed, with endearing wile. 
And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile." 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 71 

"Billy" Mann does nothing, and Benton assists 
him. This is their El Dorado, for which they took 
years of special training. 

"Roller," the champion of the billiard cne and 
tennis racquet, actually went "out of sight," in 
order to run successfully billiard, pool, and card 
rooms, with an adjoining bar. 

Watson, breaking loose from liis natural qualifi- 
cations for preaching the gospel, and giving up 
hopes of ever viewing the internal glories of heaven, 
studies them as represented in their external as- 
pect. Strange as it may seem, he L-cates in Hano- 
ver. The observatory is his home. He makes a 
life study of one beautiful constellation, " Cassi "- 
opea by name. He sketches a large chart of this 
constellation and suspends it in his study, so that 
wdien the original is invisible he can still continue 
his study. "Johnnie" makes a careful study of 
each member of the constellation. On any day of 
the year, and at any hour of day or night he knows 
where to find her. No outside attractions can 
draw him from his all-absorbing study. So many 
new stars are discovered within the constellation 
thatthe name " Cassi "-opea is changed to Watson. 
For him the wine of life never before had the 
sparkle of that moment. 

Allen, by indomitable perseverance in the study 
and practice of law, opened his v/ay to glory by a 
promotion to the sui)reme bench. He displayed 
much legal sagacity in his decisions, and became 
a copious writer on lavr and politics. Blackstone, 
as an authority, gave way to Allen. 



72 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

Tiixbuvy, by the unanimous and urgent request 
of the inhabitants of Cabot, Yt., was peivsuaded 
to locate in tlieir village. " Cy," experienced in 
the dairy branch of agriculture, is first elected 
superintendent and sole laborer of the Cabot 
creamery. Later, by a shrewd contract, the par- 
ticulars of which I will not stop to relate, he falls 
heir to the Haines woollen mills, and readily 
becomes the leading business man of that section, 
influential in society and politics. During the 
winter evenings he trains the country youth to 
"trip the light, fantastic toe," and, in order to 
retain his literary distinction, lectures on "Eti- 
quette." 

Abbott has been a sore disappointment to his 
classmates. From first impressions, we had enter- 
tained the hope that he would add honor and glory 
to the class of '93. He left college and took a high 
school in New York state. His prospects were 
excellent. Pupils and parents respected him and 
spoke loud his praise. A loyal and patriotic citi- 
zen, interested in all town matters and forward in 
public imi)rovements. Also a popular orator on 
all holiday occasions. A typical college graduate. 
But, alas ! prosperity was his ruin. He grew care- 
less and indifferent. His nightly carousals under- 
mined his physical and mental powers and hard- 
ened his soul. He lapsed into a state of apathy, 
from which he could never arouse himself. Like 
the prodigal son of the Scriptures, he had squan- 
dered his living, and sought the shelter of his 
father's roof. As the painful news was passed 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 73 

among' his lingering classmates, many were heard 
to say, '"Tis a pity, but the thorns that have 
sprung up are from the seed he planted that fatal 
spring of senior year. I was afraid of it." 

Goss, weakened by the constant strain and con- 
finement of college life, spends a few years in 
travelling, until his strength is sufficiently restored 
to warrant safety in battling with the cares and 
perijlexities of a business life. He enters his 
father's bank at Pittsfield, N. H. The life and 
spirit of Pittsfield society are focused on him. x4.ll 
social gatherings are dull and monotonous without 
his inspiring presence. 

" He glares in balls, front boxes, and the ring." 

He is the fashion plate for miles around, and 
when the giddy and ostentatious fashion-slave 
would know 

" What fashioned hats, or ruffs, or suits next year 
Our giddy-headed antic youth will wear," 

he inquires of "Charlie" Goss. Chiirles lives a 
happy and, with the exception of smoking, a taint- 
less life. All find in him a hearty and congenial 
friend, whose doors are always opened to welcome 
the visitor, whether rich or poor, high or low, edu- 
cated or not: it makes no difference. 

"Charlie" French and Rufus Baker bought out 
the Globe theatre at Boston. French is director 
of the concern, while Rufus serves as stage man- 



74 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

ager and ballet superintendent. The pure taste 
and artistic ideals of the two proprietors have so 
elevated the occupation that theatre-going is no 
longer considered among the questionable ainuse- 
ments. A large degree of their success has been 
due to the actor, Metcalf, who, after years of 
patient study, has acquired an inimitable imper- 
sonation of Romeo, Hamlet, Macbeth, and other 
Shakespearian characters. Booth is gon?, and, for- 
tunate for him, he did not live to see his superior. 
The nightly receipts of this company are enormous, 
but when you consider the numerous family that 
French supports, and the cigars that Rufus will 
destroy in a day, you will not be surprised when I 
tell you that the savings are small. 

It is certain that Saben would never earn even 
his own living, and probably would never have had 
anything beyond the ordinary rations and accommo- 
dations of a town pauper, had he not been fortu- 
nate enough to marry into a family of moderate 
means. By this covenant, he gained possession of 
a flourishing paper-mill, and took the contract to 
furnish Sparhawk with at least eight car-loads of 
note-paper per day, and more if desired. Sparhawk, 
who prides himself over his many marvellous ac- 
complishments, and especially over his facility in 
quoting authors, and the readiness with which he 
can compose witty sayings, claims that he can do 
what Hippias maintained, namely, "that he could 
say something new on any subject at any time." 
Sparhawk is the eighth wonder of the world, and 
would have ranked first had he not appeared at so 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 75 

late a day. He is followed night and day by a 
retinue of reporters, in order to have every word 
he utters preserved in book form. He abounds in 
aphorisms, maxims, and innumerable apt and quot- 
able phrases tliat one might do well to read. In 
habits and characteristics, unlike any other living- 
being. Entirely orhjinal. 

"Skid," the far-famed female charmer, becomes 
editor of a small country paper. In the first few 
numbers he writes the story of " His golden-haired 
maiden, with a silvery voice." All the respectable 
subscribers request the paper stopped at once. 
Then he takes to writing a high quality of dime 
novels. Some of the most fascinating and realistic 
productions that have ever been exposed to tlie 
public gaze issue from his pen. These vivid stories 
have been, for the most part, founded on his own 
personal experiences. Two of his books, " Hano- 
ver in the ISTight-time " and " Eeminiscences from 
behind the Scenes," produced a panic in book 
stores, and "Skid's" fortune was made. 

The alumni dinner touched a chord in Hun 's 
sensitive nature that will never cease vibrating 
while life lasts. "Sammy" once considered a 
diploma extravagant, but soon" looks u^Don it as a 
profitable investment, as the parchment is a certi- 
ficate for one square meal per year. He has served 
as class delegate, self-elected, for many years. 
"Sammy" made his mark in the world as an 
inventor. His greatest product was a "practical 
feeder." It looked something like one of those 
hand winnowins-machines. It takes a man to 



76 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

manipulate this machine, and Sam French is the 
only one to fill the position. When ready for oper- 
ation, "Sammy" stretches himself out in a reclin- 
ing chair, with his open mouth directly under a 
delivery tube. Sam French transfers a tray full of 
chickens, hams, rumps of beef, etc., which he 
empties into the hopper. Then he begins to turn 
the crank, and before long a few stray pieces reach 
"Sammy's" open and expectant mouth. When 
the machine gets well under way, French has to 
empty a bushel basket, which is placed under a 
second delivery tube to catch the bones and other 
refuse matter, every two or three moments. A 
bone occasionally is delivered through the wrong 
tube into " Sammy's" mouth, but it causes only a 
momentary clogging. "Sammy's" next patent 
removes even this slight defect. 

xlrthur Arnold, clothed in the guise of a woman 
(and it is imx)ossible to detect the deception), can- 
vasses the rural districts, selling the "Ferris Good 
Sense Corset Waists." Occasionally, when the 
opportunity presents itself, he lectures on woman's 
rights. Unlike many other agents, she is treated 
most tenderly. Every one remarks, after they have 
purcliased of lier merchandise (for of course no 
one is hard-hearted enough to refuse), "Wliat a 
sweet, dear, pure, honest, polite, kind, tender, lit- 
tle woman she was!" The boys, especially, take 
great delight in helping her along by a ride, often 
carrying her to a distant village free gratis. 

McQuesten entered the ministry, and he chose 
the Church of England for three reasons: First. 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 77 

they read their prayers ; second, they preach short 
sermons; and third, they marry rich wives. 
From the first, he became knoAvn as "the popular 
j^oung preacher." His clear and thrilling words, 
prompted by a soul on fire with its sacred mission, 
softened by grievous affliction, and intensified by 
the awful experiences of a checkered past, carried 
conviction to every heart. He soon rose to the 
highest deanship of England, and became second 
only to the archbishop. There was some mystery 
in his life that people couldn't fathom. Fre- 
quently, in the height of his discourses, especially 
when treating of "innocence" and " confession of 
sins," lie would be overcome, and faint in the 
pulpit. As the irony of fate often arranges itself 
so that when life attains its culmination of happi- 
ness it is but a step from the darkest chasm of dis- 
appointment and defeat, so it was that his greatest 
sermon was his last. The text that day was, "I 
will confess my wickedness, and be sorry for my 
sins." There was a painful strain upon his nerv- 
ous system, and he finished by a confession of 
some slight peccadilloes of his gay boyhood. 

Saltmarsh sought the most solitary retreat that 
could be secured, went into it, and has never been 
seen or heard of since. 

McKay, soon after graduation, writes contribu- 
tions for several magazines, and in the yt-ar 1900 
becomes editor of the Century. 

I will now introduce you to Guy Wilbur Cox, of 
Manchester, jST. H. Early in life he manifested a 
wonderful musical talent. It is said that when 



78 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

only a year old lie would cry to be lifted to the 
piano stool, where for hours he would sit, and, to 
the distraction of the n st of the famih'-, drum 
upon the ivory keys. After graduation, he studies 
music in the Strasbourg conservatory, and later, in 
Berlin and Vienna. He returns to America an 
expert. You can talk of Beethoven's sonatas, the 
wonderful compositions of Handel and Mozart, the 
accomplishments of Haydn and Wagner, and the 
more recent musicians, Eubenstein and Paderew- 
ski, but the fame of our classmate, Guy Wilbur 
Cox, eclipses them all. Guy, with his rapturous 
strains, charms into tumultuous ecstacj^ his count- 
less throngs. He converts the piano into an aeolian 
harp, whose harmonies seem to rise and fall with 
the gentle breezes. He is not only a player, but a 
composer of the highest rank. He is also a literary 
ma*i, as well as a musician. Again, he is as bril- 
liant in table-talk as at the piano. Let no one 
leave Hanover without taking a good look at this 
man — it's free to-day, but ten years hence it will 
cost you five dollars. 

" G. C," concluding that his physical qualifica- 
tions precluded him from becoming a professional 
bicyclist, begins the practice of law, with a suffi- 
cient amount of self esteem to supply his lack of 
knowledge. He also acquires something of liter- 
ary merit, and walks about the streets, with head 
and gaze elevated far above the horizon of other 
mortal beings. He recognizes no superiors, defends 
himself against innumerable libels, which the 
world is continually hurling in his face, and 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 79 

proudly, but truly, boasts, " I have not loved the 
world, nor the world me." 

I shall now attempt to unravel the future of 
Schimmler, the mysterious offspring of Amherst. 
Schimmler, after bidding his dear classmates an 
affectionate farewell, started out with the hopeful 
words of ex-President Bartlett ringing in his mind : 
" There is a place for everybody " — discarding, how- 
ever, the condition, "if he is fit for it," which the 
author appended to the former statement. ' ' Shim ' ' 
spent a year in search of this coveted place, but all 
in vain. In the fall of the next year, deciding to 
comi)lete his studies abroad, he set his sails for 
dear old Dutchland, and after graduating (?) from 
several of the great German universities, he went 
to Oxford, where he received the degree A. S. S. 
Again he sought a profession, but finally, acting 
in accordance with a friend's (?) suggestion, entered 
a conservatory of music for vocal instruction; after 
which training he was received at Andover theo- 
logical seminary as lecturer on "Theoretical and 
Practical Singing." 

Ferguson, finding hotel society most agreeable, 
becomes proprietor of the Glen House. For a win- 
ter home he runs the "Kaymond," in California. 

" Bob " Boutelle, the wealthiest man of the class, 
acquires an abominable faculty of telling huge 
stories. He gives them to the public in the form 
of lectures, adding to the crime by undauntedly 
asserting the veracity of his statements, and 
threatening the whole company of spectators if 
they pretend to make the least scruple of believ- 



80 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

ing them. The subject of his lecture is "Yarns." 
In one story that lie always tells, he claims that he 
once had a cod-fisli, about eight hands high and 
four feet long, that had a thick coat of long black, 
curly hair. He used him for a pet and watch dog. 
This shaggy-haired fish regularly accompanied 
him to church. (Surely that's a lie.) He also 
claims that he takes a bath daily. After telling 

such absurdities as these, he says, "By Gr , 

gentlemen, I tell you nothing but the truth, and 

the d 1 broil them eternally that will not believe 

me." He later compiled his tales into a series of 
five volumes. "Arabian Nights " and "Gulliver's 
Travels" are no longer "in it." 

"Quin" Eaton, after graduation, enters the law 
school of Boston university. In 1896 he is admitted 
to the bar. His old room-mate, "Cop" Kunnells, 
seeks ' ' Quin' s ' ' aid to extricate him from a little 
difficulty. A young lady brings suit against " Cop " 
for breach of promise, and demands retribution for 
damages. "Quin," of course, did his best to free 
the accused. After a long, earnest, and rather 
wandering plea on the part of "Quin," the judge 
quietly remarks that "the advocate for the de- 
fence is young yet, and apparently doesn't know 
his own mind." Although " Quin " loses this case, 
he studies faithfully, and becomes an honest, 
steady lawyer. " Cop," after paying his fine, went 
West and joined "Joe" Merrill in the insurance 
business. They acquired a large business. 

"Eddie" Griffith becomes caricaturist for Truth. 
The moral tone of the paper iinmediately rises 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 81 

through "Eddie's" influence, and he is made 
editor. 

"Pop" and Morrill accompanied Professor Rich- 
ardson as assistants on his archaQolo^^ical explora- 
tions in Greece. They shouldered their shovels, 
and, like eager gold diggers, upturned the sod, 
anxiously hoping that each thrust of the shovel 
would disclose some relic of ancient civilization. 
Morrill had a few wayward tendencies at first, but 
"Pop's" fatherly advice and wholesome influence 
restored him to a moral equilibrium. Many valu- 
able specimens of art were unearthed. One day 
Morrill discovered a statue of Pliryne, and as he 
studied it day by day, his first admiration grew to 
an intense fascination. A dreamy state took pos- 
session of his mind, and "Pop" felt it his duty 
to take Morrill away before insanity should set in. 
Morrill recovered, however, and they resumed 
their explorations, and devoted their lives to the 
study of pre-historic times. 

"Johnnie" Russell settles on the old ancestral 
farm, making a specialty of stock raising, and adds 
glory to himself, classmates, and the cause of agri- 
culture. 

"Georgie" Dodge (a thing of beauty is a joy 
forever) enters the boot and shoe business in Man- 
chester. The Bailey manufacturers of the "Rub- 
ber Complexion Brush " pay him an enormous 
sum for the use of his photograph and testimonials. 
They show two comparative pictures, the second 
being taken after a month's use of their brush. 

Smith, after graduation, spends the summer on 



82 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

the home farm in Cabot. During the winter he 
teaches the village school. The next spring, in 
company with his father, he builds a slaughter 
house, and a year later, having acquired some 
taste for the butcher' s life, enters the medical pro- 
fession. Here he breaks his record, and during 
two years the death rate of his community increases 
fifty per cent. Human lives are too precious for 
indiscriminate poisonous drugging, so he becomes 
a veterinary surgeon and cow dentist. His greatest 
achievement was to supply the maxilla of a neigh- 
bor' s cow with a set of false teeth, by the aid of 
which the daily yield of milk soon doubles. The 
rumor spreads, and Smith is famous. He is super- 
intendent of the school committee. Politically, he 
is a red-hot Prohibitionist. In the year 1904, he 
goes to the polls, and for the first time in his life, 
by the aid of an assistant, casts a vote that is not 
rejected. 

Henry Ide chooses the life of a tonsorial artist. 
His neat little shop, made conspicuous by an 
elaborate red and white decoration, adorns the vil- 
lage of St. Johnsbury. 

"Dayton" Miller is manager of "The Greatest 
Show on Earth." In a side show. Miller, in the 
most exciting and vivid manner, tells the story of 
his life, including all the marvellous hair-breadth 
escapes among the miners and wild men of the 
West. He is elected trustee of the Soldiers' home, 
in Dayton, O. He secures the services of "Billy" 
Eedenbaugh as tight-rope walker and bar acrobat, 
and "Charlie" Grordon, prize fighter. 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 83 

Fiirnel, after draining New England of all its 
spare money, moves West to continue his schemes. 
He sells everything, from "Dartmouth Sketches" 
to hairpins. During twenty years of canvassing, 
he was never known to fail on some kind of a sale. 
His success is due to the smiling and friendly man- 
ner with which he approaches his victim. After a 
jolly hand-shake, he purrs around awhile, pats his 
hearty friend on the shoulder, and in the course of 
ten minutes, by gentle hints makes known the pur- 
pose of his visit. After a few more turns of that 
smooth, oily tongue of Furnel's, a bargain is con- 
cluded, and the skilful agent, having made seventy- 
five per cent., leaves the deluded customer, whom 
he informs that his services are entirely gratuitious^ 
and that he has no i^ersonal interest in the matter. 

Greeley secures a position in St. Johnsbury 
academy as instructor in English literature — a 
very successful and popular teacher, and within 
ten years is elected president of the institutiou. 

Pender, with his hand tightly gi-asped on his 
diploma, having said farewell to his dear teacher, 
''Tute" Welch, boards the train for Portsmouth. 
The news has been telegraphed ahead that Pender 
is on the way. The city is gaily decked with the 
red, white, and blue, while the citizens, and espe- 
cially the ladies, are gorgeously trimmed with the 
Dartmouth green and white. Two hours before 
the train is due that is bearing homeward their 
honored son, an endless procession moves slowly 
to the station. The train speeds lightly with its 
precious freight, and at the appointed hour, 



84 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

proudly wheels into the festooned station, amid 
shouts and hurrahs that rend the air. "Ward 
McAllister" is terrified. By the aid of an escort, 
he is led to the platform of the car. The deafen- 
ing shouts increase. On a prominent seat of a dec- 
orated coach, he is driven through the sea of faces 
that line both sides of the carriage. "Georgie" 
bows gracefully, in recogTiition of their tumultuous 
applause and the showers of bouquets that rain 
down upon him. As many as possible crowd 
around the veranda of his house, and, as he steps 
down from the coach, cry, "Speech! speech!" 
With a trembling hand, "Georgie" raises his 
diploma, and triumphantly waves it above his 
head, exclaiming, "I've got it! I've got it!" A 
few years later, above the entrance of a brewery, 
partly concealed behind pyramids of barrels and 
casks, hangs the sign, — 

Geoege Edwaed Peis^dee, B. S. 

Pender makes a trade with "Shorty" to furnish 
him with hops. "Shorty" purchases the largest 
hop farm in the country, and ships all his produce 
to Portsmouth. Both amass vast fortunes. 

Kellar returns to Peoria, 111. , and secures the posi- 
tion of professor of the sciences. He proves to be 
a keen instructor, and wins a place in the hearts of 
all, pupils and other members of the faculty. He 
is invited later to become principal of a large city 
high school. He accepts the position, and there 
meets with the same success. After five years' 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 85 

experience in that position, he becomes president 
of Stanford university, California. He now reaches 
the top round of the ladder, and holds it until en- 
feebled by old age. 

McLaren devotes his life to the study of chemis- 
try. About seven years after graduation, he woke 
up one morning and found himself famous. This 
suits McLaren "to a T." He discovers a lotion 
that both invigorates and colors hair, of which he 
makes free application. 

Burbank opens a country store in his native 
town, and manages to change his politics often 
enough to keep the post-oJB&ce. 

Sanders goes on the Boston & Maine railroad 
as mail distributor, which place he holds for five 
years. He is then promoted to conductor, and 
has the run between Boston and White Eiver 
Junction. 

"Doc" Lougee and McKenzie enter the medical 
profession. "Mac" makes a specialty of the eye, 
in which branch he is an authority. His address 
is 361 Washington street, Boston, Mass. "Doc," 
before he enters the medical study, takes a post- 
graduate course at Harvard, where he receives the 
degree Ph. D. He then enters their medical de- 
partment, and after graduation settles in Roch- 
ester, ISr. H., where he acquires an extensive prac- 
tice, in which he faithfully serves suffering hu- 
manity. 

" Silver " earns a respectable living by combining 
tinkering, umbrella mending, and scissors grinding. 
I want to picture him travelling through a country 



86 



CLASS OF NINETY'T3REE. 



town: He rides in an old two-seated wagon, the 
seats, however, being replaced by a box, the dasher 
kicked oft", and the wheels rattling like a worn-ont 
stage-coach and leaving a track, as if made by four 
separate wheels, each going its own way. The 
locomotive power is a bony old "nag," which the 
crows frequently mistake for a carcass. This ani- 
mal is attached to the wagon by an ingenious 
combination and artistic display of straps, ropes, 
and chains. In the wagon, around the driver's 
seat, are boxes of tools, a pile of umbrella debris, 
and a grindstone mounted on a wooden stand. 
"Silver," clad in cow-hide boots, overall pants, a 
jacket of the same material, a dilapidated and 
rusty straw hat, a relic of ten summers and as 
many hurricanes, sits leaning forward, with his 
elbows resting on his knees. He wears a full black 
beard, and, exposed so much to the weather, his 
features look rough. As periodically as a geyser, 
he ejects from his mouth a pool of tobacco juice. 
Then ensues a minute of continual pushing and 
jerking of the reins and some vociferous talking, 
to which the beast responds by a switch of his tail. 
This is the life of "Silver." Don't pity him, in 
view of this fate, for he is a howling success, and 
the happiest man of his class. 

Dear classmates, I have prophecied for you all, 
and if it would seem that I have consigned some 
of you to a cruel fortune, let all remember that the 
so-called " irresistible fate," by hard work and 
perseverance can be overcome. The first heat of 
life' s race is over. We have all won a place in the 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 87 

finals, and within less than forty-eight hours the 
struggle begins. I exhort you to keep forever in 
view the goal of true manhood. 

"If I have done well and as is fitting, it is that 
which I desired ; but if slenderly and meanly, it is 
that which I could attain unto." 



ADDliESS AT THE TOWER. 



George Edward Kinney, Thetford, Vt. 

It is fitting at this time to review somewhat the 
history of this structure. The foundation was laid 
in 1885, in accordance with a plan of our lionored 
ex-president, Dr. Bartlett, and it has reached its 
present state by the contributions vi nine succes- 
sive classes. For the first three years the students 
provided the material and aided in the construc- 
tion. Afterward, on account of an accident which 
occurred in a fall of the staging, this method was 
abandoned, and the work has since been done by 
contract. Each class has added to the height from 
four to ten feet, varying according to the cost of 
building. As it now stands, over $2,000 have been 
expended in its construction. 

In dimensions it is sixty feet from the door-sill 
to the top of the capstone, the internal diameter 
is seven feet and six inches, and the wall varies in 
thickness from two feet and nine inches at the base 
to eighteen inches at the top. The material of 
which it is built is hornblende-schist, taken from 
a part of tlie ledge on which it stands. Here it 
stands, complete in its stone- work, having but one 
rival on the top of this ledge — the old pine, stand- 



flafC. 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 89 

ing for centuries, during the whole life of the col- 
lege from its very beginning in an unbroken pine 
forest to its present condition of prosperity, has 
by association become a part of the college itself. 

We lament that a few more years, or, at most, 
decades, must terminate its life. The thunderbolt 
and the storm have left only a feeble and shat- 
tered wreck of its former beauty and vigor. When, 
therefore, the old pine shall be no more, this tower 
may in some degree take its place as silent guar- 
dian of this loved spot. Although but just com- 
pleted, there is that in its very nature and man- 
ner of construction that gives to it interest and 
value. Many have contributed toward its erec- 
tion, and it stands therefore in some degree as 
their rt presentative. It measures out and indi- 
cates an epoch in the history of the college. The 
old administration has closed. Men of earnestness 
and faith have labored well, and success has re- 
warded tlieir efforts. This shaft stands as a monu- 
ment of a work well and gloriously done. As stand- 
ing at the end of the old, it marks the beginning 
of the new, full of promise and hope, requiring 
men of ability, faithfulness, and devotion to con- 
tinue the high order of excellence already attained. 

Here it stands, built of and founded upon rock; 
its form suggests grace and beauty, resistance and 
strength, and furnishes an admirable example of 
the noblest and best human character. A noble 
character is man's enduring monument, which 
outlasts all other monuments that he may erect to 
perpetuate his name. As the tower reaches its 



90 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

completion by successive additions, so character is 
formed; its foundation material should be truth. 
Knowledge or wisdom is the reward of a continued 
searching for truth, and an educated man is one 
who discerns the truth and accepts it. 

A few short hours and our college course has 
ended. As we separate to go to our work in life, 
let us be true men. May this shaft stand here 
through ages to come, representing to future 
classes our loyalty to our alma mater, and our 
love of what is noble, manly, and true. 




ADDRESS AT OLD PINE. 



Alfred Levi Saben, Winchester, N. H. 

Classmates : We gather around this old land- 
mark, upon this annual class day, as scores of 
classes before us have done. To us the occasion 
is most unique, long anticipated v^ith mingled 
emotions of hope and reluctance. We find our- 
selves at length upon this high vantage ground, 
vrhere the last four years, like this beautiful land- 
scape, spread out before the mind's eye; still so 
near as clearly to reveal the minor features in 
their strong lights or in their sombre shades. As 
distance shall soften the rugged parts, and the 
hand of time shall blend the colors as with an 
autumnal haze, how^ increasingly beautiful will 
appear days of golden opportunity. Yes, to us the 
occasion is one for life-long remembrance. 

This majestic pine has spread his aged hands 
and murmured his soft benedictions over the heads 
of Dartmouth's foster sons year after year as reg- 
ularly as he has cast his fringed robe about his 
feet and donned the fresh green in which to greet 
her freshmen. Let us listen to the gentle whis- 
pers which, like all sounds of wind and of wave, 
in calm or stormy mood, waken answering echoes 
in the human heart. How firm the hold which 
our silent guardian has taken upon the rock-bed 



92 CLASS OF NINETY-THREE. 

beneath! How has he strengthened himself in 
heaven-appointed ways, and thus defies the blasts! 
Though broken, not cast down; though disarmed 
in part, strong in his uprigiitness, he commands 
our sympathy and admiration. 

Listen! We catch the sentence, — "Espouse a 
good cause in early life, and give your life to it. 
By communion with the best thinkers take a deep 
hold upon the past, while you grow upward into 
the pure air and sunshine of the present." We 
treasure thy words in grateful remembrance. We 
give dutiful attention to all thy balmy breath may 
reveal. Again he speaks, — " My seasons of growth 
I have improved even while ye were sleeping. 
From the decay of my own robes I have produced, 
through long succession of years, my new and liv- 
ing garments. Learn, then, by patience and by 
wise use of all your resources, to win gain from 
seeming loss and triumph from defeat." One more 
word from this lone representative of the forest 
primeval, — " I live because I cease not to grow. 
Let your latest sunset find each a student still, 
having this motto, ' Still learning.' " 

How shall we leave this trysting place? With 
hearty good will toward one another, and with 
faith in the kind Providence which has led us 
hitherto. 

Alas, Old Pine! 'Neath thy protecting bough 

We meet to part. Our wise confessor thou, 

To thee we own, that since the day we met. 

Some words, some acts have brought our hearts regret. 

Assembled here, we seek in penitence 



CLASS DAY EXERCISES. 93 

Thine absolution ere we shall go hence. 
If true confession, then, restores the soul, 
Write our confessions in thy ponderous roll. 
We bear away, with grateful, glad content, 
Fond recollections of the brief years spent 
With honored Dartmouth, mother most benign, 
Whose colors thou dost wave, illustrious Pine. 
Human indeed seems thy pathetic sigh, 
Since thou, like us, wilt some day fall and die. 
Though scattered wide, in places far away. 
We '11 ne'er forget thine own reception day. 
The South thy loftj'' relatives may boast, 
The far West tell what monarchs guard her coast, 
The Scot still hold most dear the thread-like leaf 
Which graced the bonnet of his highland chief; 
We, Dartmouth's ons, will love her true ensign. 
Her dulcet-toned musician, grand Old Pine. 
Long years be thine! We sadly part from thee, 
An 1 from each other — Class of Ninety-three. 
Heaven keep us till, beyond the earthly strife, 
We shall assemble 'neath "the tree of life," 
For nevermore, while changeful years shall roll, 
May we all gather 'neath thy emerald stole. 



ODE. 



Albert Childs Salls, Burke, N. Y. 



O Time, when shall we greet again 

And hand and heart unite? 
O Time, why not bestow on men 

The gift of after-sight? 
Thou art so slow when friends would meet, 

So swift when they must part, — 
Stern master, thee we would entreat 

To be more kind of heart. 

And yet, for happy, fruitful years, 

In which we under thee 
Have Toy aged, safe from cares and fears, 

As on a stormless sea. 
We thank thee. Time ; and though our sails 

May venture far and near. 
We still will hope for favoring gales, 

A starry sky and clear. 

While other vistas beckon on, 

Farewell, old scenes, farewell; 
We hope to greet you oft anon. 

And feel your magic spell. 
Farewell, old halls, old campus green, 

And thou, O guardian pine! 
Sweet memories will intervene, 

And us to you incline. 



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